Surprisingly Dead
by serenityrain
Summary: A blonde, telepathic barmaid walks into a bar. This one is a little different to where she works. The patrons sure do love to drink though. She gets a little more than just answers to her questions when she ventures inside; like a blood tie to another blonde barfly, a hell of a headache from vampire politics...and more questions. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you may recognise from True Blood or its source material. I've made some edits to the first chapter. **

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The sound of glass shattering against the floor somewhere in the bar registered in my mind. It wasn't enough to drag my attention away from the man lounging next to me though. He was like a panther in his dark clothes, languorously spread out over his chair; his hair layered around his shoulders in a rich gold.

I started to swallow and then stopped. I didn't want him to know how badly this was affecting me. I hoped fervently he couldn't detect the feelings that lashed around in my gut; a giddy excitement spring-boarding into a dark heat that uncoils lower down. I twitch uncomfortably, reminding myself he can't see inside my brain. No, I thought, that's your job.

This night was already leaving me floundering, and I thought grimly, it was still far from over. The plan was too breeze in, grill some lurking vamps with questions about Maudette and Dawn, and breeze out with all the answers. Savin' the day - or at least Jason - by going out at night on my non-date. My eyes flickered to Bill. Non-date, I told myself firmly.

"I hope we're not boring you, Miss Stackhouse?" asked the man of black and gold, to my left. His voice was waspish. I flushed, realizing I had been rude.

I forced my eyes to meet his again. His attention however, was not on me.

The flash of movement at my right where Bill hovered, registered at the same glacial pace of the falling glass. My head swiveled to the sight of Bill underneath a writhing vampire who clawed at him. Her hair fell over her face in a torrent. I could hear the longing pants that fell past her lips as she reached for him, fixed on her prey. She was intent on killing him, keening out her need for his blood. I'd been around folks in the bar when their thoughts swirled into ugliness, but none of them would have been able to carry out those thoughts with the devastating finality she could. She hissed the words: "Let me kill him _now_, Eric! Let me end him!"

Bill was scrabbling back, his fangs distended and his eyes impenetrable. The sight chilled me.

A throaty pant escaped her as she continued, "You will curse the day you crossed my path again, freak. I will rip into you, like you did with those women, but I will do it _slowly_." A leaden feeling of dread slugged into me and I sat unmoving at the sight of him pinioned and defenceless. I should move, if only to move away, but I couldn't.

The vampire's nails scrabbled forward, trying to take a hold of him, but suspended in the air just out of reach she was unable to do any real damage. She was held back by the hand of the vampire sitting beside me, holding her like a mother cat supporting its baby by their scruff.

"Really Pamela" he said, "not now".

The realisation shattered its way through my thoughts, like a splinter of ice. Who knew an epiphany felt like an ice cream headache? I hadn't heard him move. The man who sat to my left hadn't moved during the attack. Instead, he shifted and leaned forward in his seat, intently watching the three. This was another man, one who looked – apart from shorter hair – exactly like him. My mind twitched around the mystery.

The figure straightened under his scrutiny and met his double's gaze squarely.

His lips spread cockily into a smile.

"Eric Northman. I believe we've all met."

He was dressed differently – still in black – in leathers, which moulded to him in a darkly expressive way. His hair was short but still gleamed gold in the lights. My eyes roamed over him as if by looking hard enough they would unpick the mystery. They didn't. All they did pick was out the dried blood, which dripped down the left side of his face. His twin? My head snapped back to where Mr Northman still sat, his hands pitched in front of him. No, I realised with a certainty that leapt out at me, like a fist. Him. Really him. But how? The female vampire, unaffected by my growing epiphany, continued to hurl curses ineffectively at Bill, her hands reaching for him.

_"What the fuck?"_ I thought.

"_What the fuck?" _ I said.

_"What the fuck?"_ I said again, for good measure.

No one however, paid any attention to me.

Bill crab crawled out from underneath the female vamp, and shot to his feet, fangs extended, apparently ready to do some rending himself.

"I demand an explanation , Sheriff! For why you have set your progeny on me like some kind of rabid dog –"

The female vampire who had cared me when we came into the bar, edged closer to the struggling trio at that point "Oh, I'm sure whatever it is – it's a real _satisfying_ explanation" she murmured, her own fangs extended.

"Compton" replied the two men evenly, in the same tone of detached contempt and stopped. Apparently, even Eric Northman can be silenced by the experience of spontaneously forming one half of a comedy duo – with himself. Ba doom tish. For a moment, no one spoke. Where they now looking at each other, rather sheepishly? My head eagerly whip-lashed between them. I could feel myself wandering along a precipice of hysterical laughter. All we needed was for someone to trip on a banana skin. Comedy _gold._

Around us, the club had stilled as they gazed up at the spectacle on the stage. The spreading silence was what awoke the vampires to action. Bringing himself to his feet, Eric, my Eric, well not that he's mine – oh, you know what I mean! Nodded to well,_ himself_, and the female vampire he still held to follow him out of the public bar. They turned and started to walk away, Eric's hand reaching back to snag behind my back, guiding me forward.

"Oh you want me to come along do you?" I ask sarcastically as I'm led forward, fuming at his man-handling of me. He doesn't answer me.

I stumbled a little as I twisted to look over my shoulder at the vampires still behind us. Normally, I would have struggled more, protested more, but I wanted an explanation with the dim part of my mind that was still functioning.

Bill was still puffing and hissing at the second female vamp, looking for all the world like Tina my cat when a neighbour's cat strolled into the yard. He fell silent after a look from the second Eric (Eric B?) quelled him. Apparently satisfied, second Eric turned his attention to his progeny and gave her a gentle shake. He asked, "Well Pam, why don't we give Mr Compton an explanation of our actions?" before setting her down on the ground.

Her sulky response " Yes, Master" was barely loud enough to hear over the sound of our footsteps as we retreated. It didn't stop me though from seeing Eric following up his words with a mocking little bow, bringing his heels together in a snap and an incline of his head in the direction that the first Eric had taken.

Something that was not quite a laugh but not quite a snort either, choked out of my throat, as a door materialized in front of me and we stepped into an office.

I sat heavily on the couch that Eric thrust me towards, craned my neck to see the approach of the vampires. On the other side of the desk, the first Eric and Pam; well the first ones I'd met that night anyway, muttered furiously to each other in different language. My eyes strayed to his hair flexing over his shoulders as he shook his head vehemently, back and forth. I preferred it shorter, I mused. The longer hair distracted from his face, which had such a strangely intoxicating mixture of qualities: A brazen sexuality when his eyes smouldered, a tantalizing boyishness, a clean cut wholesome air. I swallowed as his eyes flicked towards me before sliding away to rest on the other vampires that trouped through the door.

Bill flounced in and then stopped suddenly, trying to decide where to stand. Eric calmly strolled in and took a seat next to me, his legs crossed with one foot pointing towards me as he threw his arms out across the back of the couch. His fingers stroked the material of the couch, inches away from my exposed right shoulder. I shot him a look, only to be pinioned by his gaze. There was something teasing in his smile, his lips hitched a little over his fangs, but a slight glow warming his eyes that somehow made it less threatening. My eyes shot back to my lap where I smoothed the fabric of my dress.

"Explain" stated first Eric from behind his desk as he sat with Pam gripping the chair she stood behind.

"I too would like an explanation for this unprecedented attack" grated Bill. His gaze shifted to me and then away, tugging his shirt into a straighter position, "Perhaps though I should take Sookie home first where she will be safe. She is mine and I will protect her. And I can not protect her fully when we are being targeted by – _whatever_ you are" he spat the words at the second Pam who regarded him with the same look she leveled at her nails.

"Well" replied second Pam, without lifting her gaze from her nails "isn't this just precious?"

"Eric!" Bill flung at the first Eric "this is not the place for her!" He continued to fret at the impassive vampire who was examining a point on his desk, seemingly oblivious to us. My mind found it hard to focus on his words though. Second Eric's fingers had resumed their casual stroking of the fabric.

"Whatever wizardry has cursed the world with two of you does not concern her! She is mine and I – " he broke off when the Eric at my side started to speak.

"You keep saying that. I'd stop it Compton. Reiterating your claim only undermines your desperation," he said, smoothly dropping his left arm to his side but keeping his right arm arched over my shoulders.

"You dare to claim her. You can not! You know you can not! It doesn't matter how much older you are. She is – " he started back again.

It was the knowledge of what he was about to say that did it. That M word again. It pulled up all my anger, like a cork coming out of a bottle, with the words aimed squarely at him; at his mulish bad temper, his short-sighted possessiveness, his crass entitlement and assumption he could answer for me, decide for me. His? Like hell.

"Bill Compton, I am not yours! I do not belong to anyone but myself. I am not a package to be deposited out of sight when you decide. You will stop cussin' and carryin' on like a twelve year old and let Eric - whoever he is – Future Eric, Mirror Universe Eric, Ghost of Goddam Christmas Past Eric, tell us what in tarnation is going on around here" I flared up at him, and then swallowed as my ears carried back the shrill tone of my voice.

Well, that was hardly the measured response my Gran would have insisted upon. It's the pressure of keeping back a lifetime of reactions to things I'm not meant to know, couldn't know, I guess. When I let up on holding back, I tend to let loose. Even to me though the silence that followed my outburst seemed to flow back with the realization of how pettish I sounded.

Defiantly, I crossed my arms and sat back. Eric gave an appreciative murmur as it brought me closer to him and I jolted to the edge of the couch. I swung around so I wasn't in any danger of lounging contentedly against his chest, and keeping my eyes determinedly trained away from any of the vampires: I folded my arms and waited. A distant part of my mind tried to show me how childish I must look, sulking and obstinate, but I shut it down. I wasn't about to let self-reflection hit me now of all times. Besides, it started out good. I was not Bill Compton's to be tossed aside when convenient and if other vampires wanted to do their level best to unsettle me. Well, that was between them and their...their Maker, I guess. I wasn't obligated to play the role of Sookie Stackhouse, Vampire Power Game Pawn.

"Very well" began Mirror Universe Eric as I now resentfully thought of him. I'd always disliked the Mirror Universe story lines on Star Trek.

"Although" he said, bringing his hands to his knees and meeting the gaze of Prime Universe Eric "you probably won't find it very illuminating." No one in the room dared to move. My breath hissing out between my partially opened lips sounded too loud. I tried to still it.

"My progeny and I were involved in defending ourselves against a vampire who bore a remarkable resemblance to our dear Mr Compton" his voice had a silky power which would have drawn me in, regardless of what he was saying.

"We were _greatly_ motivated to get away from, which is why my progeny reacted the way she did when we appeared outside. He was a unique threat. The circumstances of the last time we encountered him were unusual."

Mirror Universe Pam tittered, melting against the wall in a nonchalant pose.

"There had been some power shifts in our world, and Mr Compton as we know him here," indicating the scowling vampire with an incline of his head, "had been consumed. There was little else to do but head for safety and attempt to regroup. Which was the reason we came to Fangtasia, to meet an associate of ours. A rather independent and strong-headed associate."

He looked at me then for a moment. So did everyone else. My eyes widened under the scrutiny of a roomful of vampires. He gave me that look again. The one I couldn't place the meaning behind; mocking but without any malice.

He resumed eyeballing Prime Eric again and I felt a tiny bit of my tension ebb away. At least they weren't all staring at me.

"That is the reason we decided to come here. As well as for our current appearance" his fingers flicked upwards to indicate the blood on his face and neck, "but as for the how we came here and are now with you. At a point of time that I remember _vividly"_, his voice stretching out over the word like a cat stretching after sleep, "I do not know."

"You do not know," flashed Bill, the words ripping out of his throat.

Eric smiled beside me and shrugged with his hands splaying out to the side in a disarming gesture.

"I told you so", he said.

Well. That was that.

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**Please let me know your thoughts :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for everyone who has shown interest in my story! For those of you who left reviews, I'm hoping you meant "suspenseful" rather than "muddled narrative mess" when you indicated it was confusing :) If you let me know in more detail what was confusing I will edit the chapters to improve their comprehensibility. Any likeness to another fanfiction writer's work is unintentional.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you may recognise from True Blood or its source material. **

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"What else do you remember about your journey here?" asked Prime Universe Eric, leaning forward, a frown bubbling between his brows. I had the strangest itch to lean over and smooth the skin but tamped the urge down. Lord have mercy. If there was ever a time to focus, it was then.

"Nothing of any interest", it was Pam who spoke. "We separated while our associate went ahead on the kind of hair-brained scheme, they are the fucking _Da Vinci_ in surrounding themselves with. Under the understanding we were to meet here. When we arrived, things were back to how they were before this entire rodeo got started."

Pam focused on me then with an intensity that would have made me shift behind Bill and bleat out "I'm his! I'm his!" if I had any self- preservation instincts in my body. Instead I found myself piping up with "Is there something that is significant about this time? Y'all both said it was pretty memorable, well at least" here I started to stumble over the words, "you seemed to recall it pretty strongly is all," nodding to Eric, "and you said it was the point just before, the shit _really_ hit the fan."

Pam muttered something explosively in a different language. You didn't have to know the language to figure out what had been said. She turned to her Eric then and said, "It must be her doing, Eric – that fairy _bitch_."

The first three vampires I'd met that evening bloomed with excitement, and the sound of Bill's fangs descending after they had retracted, sent a chill down my spine. They really _are_ different. So? Chided another part of my mind, brushing away the thought that had set fear to march down my spine. Lots of folks are different.

"It seems likely there is a connection" replied Eric heavily, his head dipping and eyes closing, "but we will exercise caution until we know more, Pam. It is imperative. We do not know enough to make any conclusions." He levelled an expressive look at her then. "Whatever has happened it is likely unintentional on their part."

"Well – is your associate connected with this moment, in any way?" My voice broke through the duelling looks they were giving each other. My, my, I was a regular chatterbox tonight.

"Intimately" replied Pam, her tone cutting.

I felt the same flush of anger heat my insides again. It wasn't a stupid question, like her tone was suggesting. It was pretty damn pertinent.

"Why aren't they here?" I continued curtly, "What's different about them that this fairy" I struggled for the right term and settled on, "lady - wouldn't have spirited them along with you? And what's so damn enticing about a fairy anyway that its got you all salivating with your fangs out at the thought of one?" My hands waved at the three vampires who I saw with relief had recovered slightly from the announcement. Bill looked very withdrawn, and I wondered if he felt embarrassed by being so open before. He seemed such a closeted guy, by nature.

Pam closed her eyes. "Well" she said, not for the first time that night "isn't this just precious?"

"Fairies have very potent blood," explained the Eric next to me, "it affects us strongly".

He leant back and gave me an assessing look "Tell me, as someone who is connected this evening's events as well. How do you feel, Miss Stackhouse? Do you notice anything unusual?" He brought a finger from his right hand and tapped his temple, eyes boring into mine.

I realised what he was asking and tried to school my face to the same unreadable expression he had.

"Why the concern?' I tried for a light tone and words that could be passed off as an overeager hick girl flirting with the most exciting thing to ever walk around covered in someone else's arterial spray, but my mind was buzzing. He didn't want to let onto someone I could read minds. Bill already knew though so it wasn't likely to be him, however he looked like he was the last person Eric and Pam would trust in that room right then. Maybe he didn't want to remind him? That seemed overcautious, in the midst of everything else that was going on. Or was it possible he wanted to keep it from his double and her counterpart?

I tried to not look as if I was avoiding looking at anything to give my thoughts away. I'm not sure if I pulled that one off. How could he not trust them? Was there something he was keeping them from knowing about their – My thoughts blundered off a cliff into the unknown here. Future?

"I'd just hate for any interruptions to mar our evening. We all have quite an interesting night ahead of us, by the looks of things," he replied drily.

Both Pams snorted at that.

I tilted my head to the side leaning into him, to conceal my face from the others slightly and let out a tinkling little laugh. The laugh that Arlene let fly on her latest quarry before things started to get serious between them, when they would come into the bar. I'd heard it so many times before and stored it up in my memory. It was the sign of things to come – desperate, fawning things – and I knew it would throw everyone off the scent. I leant across and patted the knee closest to me.

"Oh you" I purred, as if he had been flirting with me. I felt Bill stiffen as the first pair of (Peric?) relaxed a little. This was familiar territory for them. Fangbanging floozy turns to mush and melts over the Master in a jellyfish-like display.

He caught my hand with his own gently, as I let my shields down.

The torrent of thoughts slammed into me and I winced. His hand tightened almost imperceptibly over mine. I would have concentrated more on that were it not for the thoughts that now flooded through.

_"I told him I wasn't just going to sit home another night. I'm not his dog to just wait on him, whenever he's good and ready to go out. And why hasn't he called me yet, to find out where I am? "_

_"Maybe if I just walk over and stand there, and don't look to eager, she'll notice me and then I can look away, and she'll be piqued and she might bite me – might feed off me"_

_"Never thought it could feel like that – so good with a vamp. Like coming home to a place you've always thought was out of reach and then, sweet mother of god, when they bite – "_

_"Where the fuck are they? Back-up was supposed to be here 20mins ago and I am not going to be able to take on that fucking fanger by myself – No way am I sticking my neck out – its suicide."_

"Eric, we have to go", my eyes snapped open, "there is a cop out there and there is going to be a raid" I said.

"Very good" he remarked, swinging back to look at his Pam who snorted again. "I suggest we reconvene somewhere else for the remainder of the evening, to continue our conversation."

"We get to come as well?" Pam asked flippantly. She rolled her eyes when I looked at her. Somehow, I don't think we would be heading to the salon together real soon.

"Even if she is right, we do nothing illegal here" dismissed Prime Universe Eric. Oh yeah, they were still here.

Something tugged at my mind then, the whimpering thoughts of a man splayed out over the lap of a vampire. I cringed from how raw his need felt.

"There is a man – in the toilets – he is being fed upon by a vampire" I shot back, on my feet moving towards the door with Eric and Pam – the second two – just ahead.

* * *

We had left the corridor and stepped outside when a rush of air rippled past me three times. I turned to see them standing there, Perics' eyes locked on their counterparts. Brilliant. We were back to this again.

Bill's hands were on my shoulders as he leaned in and spoke forcefully "Sookie, we are leaving. I know tonight has not been as we expected, but we can not risk being dragged into whatever this mess is – I promised to keep you safe – " His words broke off at the sound of my voice breaking in and snapping his ministrations apart.

"Motherfucker!" my voice gasped. Only I hadn't spoken.

The girl that had spoken was dressed in dark jeans and a leather jacket. Her hair was pulled into a tight braid. The blood smeared down her front, looked almost black in the poor light of the carpark. I gazed at her as if I could unpick the mystery by how intensely I stared.

I started to go over the night in my mind, for times when I could have been injured and not realised it at the time. Maybe a blow to the head could explain everything? Why hadn't I thought of that before?

"Didn't I stake you once tonight?' she snapped.

The tension went out of Bill's grip but he kept his hands on me. Seems like he had other things on his mind than my safety just then.

"And take your hands off me!" she continued to spout at him as the second Eric walked over to stand beside her, "or I should say _her_, but as she is _me_ as far as I can make out, and I've got no words to make sense of this just yet. You will oblige me Bill Compton by taking your hands off a lady that hasn't asked for it!"

My mouth started to open to tell her I was able to fight my own battles, thank you very much, but the sight of second Pam looking at me expectantly dried the words right off my tongue. Clearly, she expected me to blow my top at whatever version of me was standing there, saying exactly what I would have said if not for her grand entrance, just because she had been the one to lay down the law first.

Well, there is assertive and there is argumentative and then there is just plain stupid. Besides, I forced myself to think as I ground down on my teeth, _"What would Gran want you to do?"_

The fight went out of the second Sookie as soon as the thought crossed my mind. She sagged down and eyes came to rest on me in a tortured hope.

"Gran" she sighed.

A rush of images and thought swelled within my mind and I cried aloud as they pounded in like a wave crashing against a cliff: _The sight of blood and its sickening smell in the water of the washbucket as I bent over the place where I had found – __**found her**__ – Jason's fist on my face, his words stinging into me with more force than he ever could have landed with a blow– the ache that pulled me down into the bed with a grief so solid it was like I was paralysed – the eyes of Rene locked onto me, a belt held in his hand – the sight of something ancient and unknown and yet foul in a way that my body cried out against, rising from the remains of Bill my first love – the scream that I made as I staked him as he taunted me "I will kill him like the other one promised. I will take your precious Viking. I will mount him like he mounted you. I will break his heart open with my cock and make a leash for you with his intestines" – Eric leaning in to feed from me and I was glad I was kneeling as otherwise my knees would have given out with how much I wanted it – _

_"No"_ I choked out, my hands cradling my head trying to block it out. It was too much. Too much. I felt a prickle of moisture on my fingers where they covered my ears. I was bleeding. Crazy Sookie had really gone crazy this time.

The touch of her mind questing forward was like the wet nose of a momma dog on its pup. Insistent but gentle. I could feel her nudging me, smoothing out the mental bumps and filling in the cracks with reassurance. I let out a sigh and dropped my hands.

We stared at each other then for one long moment. Her voice, _our voice_, had a musical twang to it when we weren't screeching at uppity vamps, "She'll be there won't she? Sitting in that chair – reading her stories. Like always."

"Yes" I replied, "but the blood might be a problem." I stretched out a hand to indicate her blood-splattered clothes.

"It hardly ain't," a laugh rushed out of her, her eyes glowing "a shower is the quickest way through that, and believe me if you had actually done the stuff you just saw you wouldn't be thinking of that as anything that couldn't be rustled up."

Hmm. I'm not sure I liked this version of me much.

"Sookie," said her Eric, stepping in front of her and leaning down slightly to catch her eyes, "it hardly seems wise to involve anyone you may care about in this before we know it won't bring them into any danger. We may have stumbled into some – remnant – of time, but we don't know that is going on." She – I – was shaking her head against his words, while a hand snaked out to touch his chest to steady herself.

He continued, " We've been brought here and we don't know how or why, or whether these people _are_ us or different. She has seen into you I take it? Seen your past?" She nodded weakly. "We don't know if it is her future though, whether seeing it will change her and therefore us. We know nothing, and we need to work out more before we take any action. For all we know we could still be in the fucking Authority, while that _thing _watches us to see whom we care about. "

"Oh, Eric wouldn't you?" she whispered, looking up at him "If it was Godric?"

He seemed to sink into himself then, as the first Eric who had been standing apparently aloof and detached from the melodrama exploding around us, started at her words.

I saw what she intended to do without understanding it. She couldn't move fast enough on foot away to get to a car before he caught up with her, but there was another way for her to move. A way he couldn't follow. He reached for her as she faded from sight, the pressure of her mind leaving mine like a breath of air leaving the lungs.

* * *

The first Eric sped in front of me, his fangs distended and his brow drawn down. My body flinched automatically as he bent over, but I felt no fear as his breath landed on me. I had been through so much tonight there was just not much of Sookie showing up to process anything new for a while.

"What are you?" he asked.

My eyes were on the place were the second Sookie had dematerialised. "When I find out, I'll be sure to let you know."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank for your continuing interest, especially Jfozz who gave some feedback to improve comprehensibility. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you may recognise from True Blood or its source material. **

* * *

The second Eric twisted to his Pam, and pointed at me "Keep her with you – and make sure she doesn't get herself killed before I manage to get back to you" he hissed. Then without uttering another word, he shot off up into air, _flying_ after the second Sookie. I shook my head. Hell of a thing', a flying vamp.

"Eric, I'm not sure that's entirely possible – " she had started to drawl but trailed off as he travelled out of sight. She let out a great huff and yelled after him in frustration; "There are easier ways of having a threesome! You don't need a matched set for it to work!"

The first Eric let out a grunt of laughter at the second Pam's remark and moved to speak with her. I felt myself stiffen at the idea of me – even future or parallel me – doing the nasty with _him_ any time soon. His Pam eyed me before she joined them, speaking rapidly in a different language. I watched them scheme with a sick feeling in my stomach.

Bill leaned in and said to me softly, "You didn't tell me you were able to vanish like that – is it related to your telepathy? Where did she go?" His voice was urgent and his eyes showed the strain he was under.

"I don't – I can't do that disappearing thing! I don't know what she did. She was just standing there and wanting to be somewhere else and I could see her lining it all up in her mind and deciding, and then 'poof' she disappeared!" I felt hysterical; unhinged. The numbness that had left me moments ago unwavering in first Eric's arms seemed to have been ripped away by another shock.

"Where did she go?" he asked, "She is you, Sookie, and we need to protect her from whatever is happening. I will make sure nothing happens to you or her. I give you my word."

I couldn't say anything but stare at him dumbly, willing this night away. I could be at home with Tina on my lap as I opened my latest mystery novel. I'd just gotten a new one from the library and – No. No, no, no, no. My mind snapped out of its reverie. I won't need that kind of excitement anytime soon.

"Sookie" he said, and took me by the shoulders again, and resentment bit through me. I didn't want to be touched or talked to by anyone. I was tired of trying to explain and think. I just wanted to be left alone. "Sookie," he demanded more forcefully, shaking me gently this time "where did she go?"

"Compton" interrupted Eric, as he strode back to us "you have clearly been failing to attend. Miss Stackhouse has returned to her grandmother's house. Do keep up."

Bill let his arms fall. I wilted away from them both, glad for the reprieve.

"We will now take the original back there," he said, nodding towards me. "You will accompany us and provide a place for my progeny – both my progeny to rest. They will provide you with aid in unravelling this mess. I will need to confer more before we decide what to do with the girl." I felt some of that Stackhouse rage start to bubble and hiss in my belly. He would decide what to do with me? Hell no, mister.

Bill hissed back "Eric this is madness – You can not allow that_ thing _near Sookie." Second Pam muttered to her counterpart in the background, "Now, now." My lips quirked. It wasn't quite a smile.

"We do not know what they are or whether they can be trusted! Sookie is a girl – a human girl – and I made a promise to protect her, not to deliver her into a nest of vampires."

"And yet you have" broke in Eric, eyes turning to me. "Really Compton, this noble protector act is wearing a trifle thin. You are practically transparent," he took a breath. "We all appear to be bound together in this frolic – " his head snapped to the side as he listened to the sounds change within the club. Back up must have arrived.

After a moment, he twisted back and continued "and so far now we should remain watchful and close. If you are so concerned for the safety of a creature that can apparently disappear at will", his eyebrows raised questioningly, "clearly a _helpless_ being. You will have to observe her and your other acquisition where they are most likely to _pop_ up. At her grandmother's house."

"I do not need you to keep her safe" snarled Bill. He sounded desperate and a part of my mind wondered why this was so important. It seemed odd. All this rabid barking put me in mind of a dog defending its favourite toy.

" You and your child can stay here, I will let you know what transpires – " he tried again.

"Enough!" Eric moved towards Bill, his fangs extended, the words uttered so powerfully they felt like they were rising from the ground. "You will comply."

Bill dropped his eyes and murmured in a low voice "Yes, Sheriff."

"Miss Stackhouse," Eric said, turning and taking me into his arms before I could move away "I do hope you are not scared of heights".

* * *

I kept my eyes trained on the black silk in front of me. It supple, whisper soft texture and the molten way it stretched over the sculpted chest it rested against. The way the light glinting in different ways, showed the whorls within the material, usually unseen by the casual observer. I drew a breath and let it out slowly. The world consisted of the silk I saw. How it was moving and dancing in the air that _rushed past us_ – I took another breath, jagged this time.

A whimper escaped my throat as I brought my attention crashing back to the black silk. I wasn't going to think of the – space – around me then, just then. The great distance that stretched endlessly up and down to the tree tops that blurred below us.

"You didn't have to do this," I whisper. "I could have driven back," my voice ended in a whimper.

"It would have been too slow," replied Eric distantly. "Be grateful I choose to carry you this way. There is always the approach that Pam and her equally terrifying compatriot are taking."

I peeked then, looking over his shoulder to see the two Pams with Bill strung between them, one of their hands each clasped around a separate ankle. His head pointed directly at the ground. He would writhe up to claw at them, trying to right himself but they would open their hand slightly and let him slip – before grasping at him again while their laughter filled the air.

I let out a strangled cry and buried my face in Eric's chest. I felt his right arm shift and come up to encircle me along with his left arm, holding me in a more secure grasp. He touched the back of my head with his right hand, just once.

"I won't let you fall," he said simply.

Being held like that let some of my breath start to recirculate through my lungs. It was comforting to feel more anchored to him. His next words settled the chill back in my lungs though. "You appear to be very useful to me at some point. Although as you seem to be the unwitting cause of this all, perhaps it would be simpler to drain you," he said musingly. He craned his neck, pushing his face into the crook of my neck and shoulder. "The prospect does excite me," he whispered throatily, and I shivered violently in his arms.

I wrenched my upper body away, trying to coil my body around his to avoid the lingering threat of his lips, without letting go of the support that was keeping me alive. I tried to wrap myself around him with my head against his back. He tilted me back to lie against his chest. His grip wasn't harsh but it was unyielding. "Stop squirming" he ordered.

"I am not your juice box!" I spat savagely back at him. Our faces were inches apart; my head was cushioned against his chest. I tried – again – to move back, to get some distance from him but his arms were locking me into place. "You can't just take a fancy to drink me dry and then throw me back over your shoulder when you're done!"

He tilted his head, examining my reaction as if considering whether this was what set me apart from other humans; made me _useful_. Apparently not as his eyes slid away from me, impassively, and concentration settled on his face.

"We're here," he said, and let me go.

* * *

My feet came to rest on the ground a little unsteadily as I stumbled back a few steps to keep from falling on my arse and giving him a real show with my skirt up around my waist. The scream that had been lying flattened in my stomach since the start of the terrifying night ride, hiked up and started to shrill out of my throat – before I stopped, realising I was on solid ground. In my backyard of all places. I took a breath instead, sucking cool air in and promptly started to choke a little as my confused body adjusted. He eyed me with that cool assessing glance again. I could see the question in his eyes, the one that trickled and pressed into parts of me that no else had ever wanted revealed to them before: _What are you?_ It wasn't romantic or even sexual on his part. I could see that. It was just – I was a puzzle, and he was used to having all the answers.

"You said you wouldn't let me fall!" I managed to get out after some of the choking subsided.

"You didn't fall" he replied impassively, turning to the strange sight of himself being harangued by my blood-soaked double. "It appears you don't lose your talent for pointless displays of defiance," he observed, as she landed a stinging slap across his face. First Eric's fang distended at the sight, but Second Eric only shook his head once as if to clear it, stretching his hands out beseechingly.

My breath sucked in, as I tried to plot out the events that would justify me using violence against another. It was not, not _seemly_. My mouth opened to let out: a protest, a warning, a scold. Well, I wasn't quite sure what but I couldn't just let the sight of me descending into this madness and turning into a virago go, without making some kind of stand. As soon as I had the thoughts, I knew she had heard them. She twirled to me, her energy leaving her suddenly. Second Eric stilled behind her, uncertain of what direction this was now taking.

"Oh" she said quietly, and took a step towards me. Without thinking, I took a step back. Her face quivered, "I didn't mean…it's not like – they can't be hurt like us, and we just," she stopped, hearing herself. I watched as she closed her eyes for a moment before reopening them.

"I'm not her anymore Eric. I'm not – her – and I can't be again. Can I?" she asked brokenly. "The girl in the white dress" she whispered, her voice taking on a different tone. Her eyes were on me and her question was for him, but the answer came from her. With a brutal cry that shocked me into taking a few steps back, she turned and seemed to lunge for his arms but fell short, and dropped to the ground with a terrible keening noise. It set my feet moving towards her, without thought of whatever had passed between us just then, which I didn't completely understand, or what in the hell else was going on which I _definitely_ didn't understand. There are some things that just bypass your brain, and leap straight to your heart. Someone - didn't matter whom – making that sound was one of those things.

It was the expression on Eric's face that stopped me. I had seen it before when I was little and curled up next to my mother while she slept. My father had been away and she started to get sick. Before I knew it she was getting bad, real bad. That night she hadn't made it to the bathroom in time to vomit, and some of it had spilled out onto the floor and tangled bed linens that had dragged on the ground, when she tried to get up. She had heaved it all out while on all fours, down on the floor instead. I had been too little to get her up and moving enough to change the linens, but I had tried to get some of it off the floor. She had eventually got back into bed, and I stayed with her. She didn't usually get that close to me, and even with the smell of the vomit rising rank in the air, her skin smelled like comfort next to me. I had gone to sleep and woken up to my father kneeling over her with a stricken look on his face. It was the look of someone deeply in love, and hurting bad, that they couldn't just take this away but ready to do anything they could.

The Eric beside me, snarled. He had seen that look as well. I looked at him as he watched the tableau in front of us, fangs extended. He looked – _frightened_ – and it gave me a small part of myself back, to know I wasn't the only one having trouble with the crazy arse shit happening tonight.

* * *

"Sookie! Is that you, girl?" called a voice from within the house. Shit! Gran! The last thing we needed was for this to play out again, except this time with my grandmother cast in a starring role.

"What's going on?" she called again, and her voice was nearer. I didn't hesitate.

I turned, and walked into the house, leaving them all there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you may recognise from True Blood or its source material. **

* * *

I slammed the plates down hard, and moved away before Lafeyette could make a sound. He was annoying me tonight. So unconcerned about anything that might be happening outside the happy little bubble he built around him. There were only so many booty touches a person could stand to witness, when their mind was elsewhere. My eyes flashed to Sam who was hunkered down behind the bar, fixing a clogged pipe on one of the beer taps. Yet another person who was annoying me today. Beavering away at his tasks, completely unaware of the world that I had been slung into, and which he had not done enough to keep me away from. Oh sure – he had postured a bit and thrown his weight around. "Damn it Sook!" I imitated under my breath. Much good that had done.

A burst of laughter sounded from one of the tables and I spun away to skulk at the other end of the bar, busying myself by checking over empty booths to see if anything had been left behind.

It had been three days since I had found out I was part of some cosmic hiccup in time and I had not heard a peep out of anyone since that night; Nothing, nada, zilch. I attacked a stain on one of the tables with my apron, viciously, hand moving in brisk circles as I rubbed at it. _Three days. _My eyes narrowed as I spun the events over in my head again, flipping them over quickly, like pages in a book. I had been playing this game ever since I had walked into the house, smiled sweetly at Gran, and lied through my goddamn teeth.

Another thing I could blame them for – the traitorous trio, the duplicitous doubles – I thought with satisfaction, as I slammed the salt and pepper shakers back against the wall. They had no right. No right to just waltz in, and promptly tear away all these apparently flawed conceptions I had. Like the one where I was Sookie Stackhouse, the one and only telepath. Oh yeah - and that time moved in a straight line, although I still wasn't sure we were talking time travel here. I sighed. I could really only abide time travel when it was old, shaky episodes of Dr Who. Somehow it always pissed me off when it was a plot on another sci-fi show. I was even more pissed to discover it was more annoying when you were involved in the plot personally.

Mirror Universe? The only other half-way likely explanation. One that was even more annoying. I snorted, working away harder at the stain. Someone was going to pay for forcing me to participate in what was the most terrifying and bizarre night of my life, leaving me weeping one moment and then rocked to my core with inappropriate laughter the next. Or at least, inane repressed giggling. I had flown through the goddamn air! Like Superman!

And then I had come down to the ground with a resounding thump, which I still felt in my ankles if I was too quick getting up. And I was so pissed that this was all I had left to show for it, just that jarring occasional ache, and my memories that I had picked over and reassembled in so many different ways. I used to store up the promise of good things, exciting things to lift me out of the hum-drum, but suddenly that wasn't cutting it anymore. I wanted answers. I didn't want to be stuck in the same po' dunk town doing the first job that had came easy and going through the motions of life like this was really living – I cut off the thought suddenly. I took in a breath, and then another one. This was not wise. What if I didn't hear from them again? What if I turned my life inside out and upside down with these thoughts, and all I had left was the knowledge this wasn't enough. It had to be enough. It had always been enough.

Three goddamn days.

_"Is that all? Oh honey, I don't mean to be a bitch but you've really got to learn to just be patient when it comes to vamps", _a voice murmured in my mind. _"Now I just want to let you know so you don't freak out on him – but you're going to get a visitor."_

I pressed my lips together in shock and looked worriedly at Sam from out of the corner of my eyes. Could he hear? I twisted around, facing outwards to the door willing Sookie to appear to give me answers. That would really give the people in the bar something new to talk about for once.

_"No of course he can't hear us – you know any other telepaths?" _she asked amused.

_"Of course I don't", _I flashed back at her defensively, _"Do you?" _ Honestly, it was like having your older sister's much cooler friends show up at your house to make fun of you while they tried on make up in front of the mirror. Only the mirror was your head and everything you were was being reflected back at them.

"_Loads"_ came the voice cheerily, _"well only two humans ones I guess – "_ she cut off suddenly as my last thought took root.

_"Honey, I'm sorry",_ her voice had lost its edge. _"This is all new to me as well. We will get to talk real soon I hope."_

_"You hope?" _I moved my head back and forth slowly, wondering if this would give me more of an idea where she was holed up. I saw a table of diners watch me rotate my head from side to side, eyes flickering dangerously under my lowered eyelids, muttering random words indignantly. Crazy Sookie, at it again. I fixed them with my most winning 'I'm totally not a telepath' smile and turned back to the wall.

_"Yeah well – We're trying to be careful here. Vamp's can be surprisingly cautious for a species that has to adjust to living down the ages. It's not good when they get rattled. Brings out their nesting instincts" _her voice sounding a little subdued now.

_"You ok?"_ I asked automatically.

_"Oh yeah – just tired of being stashed in a coffin with Eric, all the live long day", _and I gasped as she showed me an image of his face, unmistakeably dead, pillowed on velvet next to her own. _"Don't worry" _she reassured me. _"That's how they look in the day – dead."_

_"Are you and he, are we – in the future or whatever the fuck this is – like dating?" _ I asked, unable to stop myself. There was a silence then, and I felt a pang go through me. I didn't want to have this slip away as well, even more easily than last time, and for that to have been my last question.

_"There isn't enough time in both our lifetimes to answer that" _she answered drily. _"Look, I just needed to let you know about your visitor tonight. You'll have to ask him in."_

_"Well of course" _I thought mystified. How else would we able to visit? Oh, she meant – which must mean. She had said _him_ so the Pams and her were off the table. Bill had already been invited to my home and his invitation had never been rescinded. Her Eric probably already had an invitation if the velvet cushions were anything to go by, although I'm not sure if it worked that way. Which still made the most likely contender for my mystery visitor tonight – Eric, the first Eric, my Eric.

_"So look, stock up on some True Blood if you don't have it", _came her voice again, _"he likes A neg if you can get it at the store. I can't remember if they stocked it back when – Well, when I was you I guess_".

That could be a problem. Earlier that day after waiting late the night before to see if the whole gang would show up for the second act of the little melodrama we'd started, I'd emptied any True Bloods in the house down the sink. I'd felt empowered for the length of time I'd taken to do it. I wasn't sure whether the Bon Temps store would carry much in the way of _speciality_ items.

_'"Oh",_ said her voice and then not much else for a while. The soft sounds in my mind was her laughing, I realised with a sense of delight. It was ticklish. _"It's just – Its something I would do"_ came her voice again.

This time her voice was a little sharper, _"It won't be a – a bad time, will it? She won't be there or anything? I picked tonight because it was her night at the meeting as well, I thought it might hard to explain – "_

Probably not as hard as her having a second – but identical – granddaughter covered in blood and screaming like a banshee, but yeah. "_No she'll be venerating the dead, well away from the walking, talking dead man in her living room"_, I answered.

_"That's a relief",_ she said, and it sounded tense. _"How is she?" _with so much longing in her voice, it dragged my stomach up into my mouth before plummeting it back down again. This was how it was for her – being cut off from Gran by _that,_ longing with that intense drive to see her, to hear her voice again – and now she could. Except something still stopped her, held her apart. A quiver raced down from the crown of my head to my toes: What could possibly be that compelling, that it would keep me from seeing Gran again?

My breath caught. I couldn't let it happen. Not the way I had glimpsed at least; That sight even more terrible than her body, of my hands washing away the blood from the floor. Eradicating her presence from the house, her essence, what remained behind, when everything was said and done. It was so final, and I couldn't accept that.

_"I don't know if we have that choice",_ whispered my older and maybe wiser self, _"we all die"._

_"Not like that" _I replied, wanting to reply more vehemently but the simple truth in her words took some of the sting out of my self-righteousness. This woman had actually cleaned the blood off the floor and answered the door to neighbours with an etched smile and accepted the pies baked with so much malice, it was surprising they didn't bleed when a knife cut them. I had only watched it, glimpsed it through the eyes of someone I was yet to become.

_"Might not become either, if we keep at this" _I heard her edging away, with some resignation. I could her becoming thoughtful now; pulling her mind away to a place I couldn't reach.

_"What do you mean?" _I plunged after her, desperate to keep her talking just a little longer. Out of the corner of my eye, a hand waved, insistently. Uh oh. Sam. How long had I been standing here, having a conversation with myself – in my mind – while tables went untended?

Her touch on my mind is brief and welcome, but distant. She's _elsewhere_, I can feel it, probably carrying on a conversation verbally while she teases me with not very enlightening information. It's like a distracted owner placating a needy dog with a head pat. I growl internally.

"Sook" Sam calls as he walks towards me now. Shit.

_"Later"_ she breezes at me, and with that is gone.

"Something you need to tell me?" he asks, coming to stand beside me.

* * *

**Please let me know your thoughts :) **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I edited this slightly after putting it up. I do proof read but a few mistakes were obvious after I read it over again, once it had been submitted. My apologies to anyone who read it previously! The edits don't impact on the plot in any way, they are stylistic and grammatical corrections I made.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you may recognise from True Blood or its source material. **

* * *

There were only so many ways you could pretend to yourself you weren't nervous. I'd tried to sunbathe in the last of the evening sunshine after getting home from work. After flopping from front to back so many times in an attempt to get comfortable, I'd reminded myself of a dying fish, I gave up and came inside.

I checked to see whether the Tru Bloods I'd slipped out from underneath the bar, waving the money to pay for them theatrically around for Sam to see, were still there. Yep.

Earlier that day, I had got entangled in one of those arguments which were becoming all too common lately, when he'd walked over and snapped me out of "Sookie time"; The argument where someone suddenly decides they get a say in what you do. More than a say – they get the final word. It was getting old. I shook my head fiercely, forcing the memory out. Sam's mind is usually whirring in a smoky red haze, but I could hear his thoughts this time loud and clear. The words that left his mouth when he'd dragged me into the office, his fingers pinching into my arm above elbow where he held onto weren't much better.

He was scared. Scared for me, but for him mainly, that I would be seduced away by vampires. Just – drop out of his life, and maybe fall onto one of the barstools late one night, years after being used up by the vamps. Or maybe just killed, dropped off on the side of a road like a large piece of sweaty bologna that no one wanted to eat before it went bad. He'd pictured me then; my eyes glassy and hair died an artificial black splayed over my face in the gutter. I cringed at the memory.

I made myself a meal mechanically out of the leftovers that Gran had left in the fridge. I swallowed the food slowly, feeling it form in a tight ball in my stomach. With more than half the plate full, I pushed it away. I watched the night's colour deepen out of the window. When would be a likely time for a vampire with a little cosmic reason to be punctual to come a callin'?

The brush of my mind against the silence that radiated from him slinked into me, like hot fudge sauce melting over vanilla ice-cream. I blinked, pulled my shoulders back and walked to the front door to let him in.

"Miss Stackhouse" his voice was level, eyes whipping over me once and then settling on a point against the wall. "I have some messages from our – mutual friends." Friends, was it?

I nodded him inside, feeling suddenly shy at the sight of him leaning against the door with one hand raised. He was wearing dark jeans and a blue silk shirt, with several buttons left undone, exposing part of his chest. I glanced down and realised my dress was several inches shorter than it had seemed when I put it on. For a moment, the idea of disappearing fabric as a side effect of being contaminated with time travelling body doubles who duked things out with their fists, popped into my head. Perhaps this could explain where all my socks had gone over the years? Tucked away in some parallel universe where I strutted about, slapping men in the face? I pushed the thought away, with a wry smile. The truth was I just felt very – aware – of any bare skin on show around Eric. He was that kind of man.

Realising I had lingered too long in my thoughts, I turned and started to walk away, calling out "The kitchen is this way. You want a Tru Blood?"

"You will have to invite me in" he said, lifting one eyebrow as I swung back to face him as he spoke.

"Oh I – " I stopped.

He could tell I was flustered. Actually no, he seemed to expect it and was _acting_ as if I was flustered which seemed to be working to _get_ me flustered. That chapped my hide.

"Say," I said, looking at him directly in the face. "Are you the first or the second Eric I met that night?"

He gestured towards his hair that flowed onto his shoulders, "I thought that would be obvious."

"Oh – yeah," I said slowly as if just noticing, as he shifted impatiently from foot to foot now. "It's a shame really– it looks better short. You can come in Eric." I shot back over my shoulder as I scooted into the kitchen.

I was pretending to rummage around in the fridge looking for a Tru Blood as if they hadn't been specially procured for him that afternoon, when his silence gathered over me again. He was in the room. I tensed expectantly for what was to come. I'd waited – maybe not patiently – but I'd waited, and now finally I was getting answers. His voice broke in with words I hadn't expected: "You dress differently to her".

I lifted the Tru Blood out of the fridge and looked down at its instructions worriedly – how did I serve this? I huffed out, "well she seems to have a lot of advantages over me, doesn't she? First of all, she knows what I am going to do before I am going to do it. Knows all the dumb shit I should avoid doing – like getting cosy with certain vamps as they turn out to be unhinged psychopathic killers with delusions of Godhood– "

He took the blood out of my hand and placed it in the microwave, moving in that incredible pulsing rush they can do. Before I had time to really process what was happening, he was back next to the table, leaning against the wall. My mouth opened to protest his high-handedness as he shrugged his shoulders and looked at me imploringly: "Forgive me. I believe I was interrupting your ranting. Please continue." He raised the same eyebrow at me again. Bastard.

Well. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

Instead, I made a sound that would have made my Gran shoot me a look that would curled every hair on my head if she'd heard it.

"What are you feeling right now, Miss Stackhouse?" he asked, giving me a look of resignation after I refused to speak, listening to the faint buzz of the microwave.

"Pretty damn annoyed, _Mr Northman. _You see I've been waiting for an explanation - "

"Yes, apparently its unusual for you to be so self-contained. Your counterpart took great relish in informing me, repeatedly, that in your position she would be storming the dark, shadowy lair of any vampire she met to wring the answers out of them, even if she had to take silver to them. "

I wanted to pout. There was something about this whole situation that kept clanging for my attention but I pushed it aside, trying to clear my head.

"Has there been anything" he grimaced slightly, realising how ridiculous this sounded, "_unusual_ about the last few days which would have deterred you from doing that?"

Everything about the last few days felt like too much to fit inside my head. As my head was usually clogged with other peoples' thoughts and memories anyway, it made it hard to know what was mine and what was not at times. My eyes flew open as I considered a new possibility. I walked a few paces away, turning it over in my mind.

She had tricks up her sleeve I didn't, that was abundantly clear. Perhaps she was also able to plant seeds in my mind. My eyes flickered to the blood. What made it important to get that particular type? Oh, Southern hospitality sure – but I had been pretty pissed off, and yet it had all fallen away when she had launched herself into my mind. I had felt eager, receptive to anything she might have said. I could hear a pounding in my head, which was my heartbeat, carrying the word "no" back to me with every beat; No, no, no. I didn't want this to be true. Was she manipulating me somehow? Making me biddable?

My mind drifted to the memory – her standing in my yard and turning towards me, saying those words "they can't be hurt like us". How shocked she been at my shock and the revelation for her, that using violence against people was wrong.

How different did someone have to be from her to shrug her shoulders and say, "oh well"? Was I?

My mind drifted to another memory. Eric was in it, I noted with surprise when his face swam into view. It felt warm this memory, tinged with an emotion I didn't recognise. Something big which spread right through me, dripping all over the place with flashes of exasperation and exhilaration, as well as flush with companionship and comfort.

"You're totally in love with me, hey?" I blurted out.

My eyes snapped to his in horror. The question echoed in the increasingly awkward silence between us. I registered the sound of the microwave beeping distantly. It had to contend with the sound of the blood rushing to my face.

Without taking his eyes from me, he walked over, and reached out with his arm. Roaming a fraction from my flesh, his body shifted downwards to align more closely me, his eyes locked on mine. Shit, was he going to kiss me? I tilted my head upwards, my tongue darting to moisten my bottom lip automatically. Behind me, using the hand he had reached out with, he opened the microwave door and lifted the bottle of blood out.

Ah, no. Not going to kiss me.

He turned and walked into the living room without saying a word.

"I have a message for you" he announced, eyes boring into the distance, determinedly not looking at me as I slunk back into the room, hands around a gin and tonic. I made an encouraging gesture with my hand, not able to meet his eyes yet. "It's not the Mirror Universe," he said solemnly.

My startled laughter brought his eyes to me. When I was able to stop, I asked him, "Do you have any idea why that's so funny?"

"No." He took a sip of his blood.

I was vaguely disappointed. A sense of humour was clearly not what made future Sookie willing to bunk down in a coffin with him then. I mimicked his pose, except I kept my legs daintily swept to the side and waited for him.

The silence filled that room with the same feeling a person who is allergic to cats knows they're going to get when they walk into discover a ginormous tabby sleeping on their pillow. At last, I snapped under the strain.

"How's your blood?" I asked, with just enough of the Southern belle to feel I wasn't completely off my game.

"It's fine" he replied. "Is it your blood type?"

I was taken aback. "That seems mighty personal," I said guardedly, "and a bit fresh, Mr Northman." The last words were said with more heat as I thought the question through – I mean it was like a teenage boy demanding to know a girl's cup size.

"I apologise. I am just– assessing – the situation."

"More than a bit fresh" I cut in again, feeling that Stackhouse rage sit up and say hello finally. I pushed away the strangeness of how I had been acting before; flustered, flirting and practically _begging_ him to kiss me. Rather than ripping into him and showing him what I really thought of his inconsiderate and surly manner. A Southern man, I thought, did not keep a lady waiting and then force her to ask questions he should be trying to anticipate.

"How much do you trust these people exactly?" I exploded at him."I mean they show up out of nowhere – slink about covered in _blood_. I'm - " I thrust my hands towards myself in a movement which made the liquid in my glass bounce precariously, "apparently happy to dole out violence whenever I feel like it."

"You" my finger stabbed towards him, "or _him_ I should say, thinks nothing of sexually harassing me while he gives us this piss-poor explanation. Where he blames everything on Bill! Or at least, if they'd given any real explanation, you bet that is what he would have said! Who their Pam just _attacks_ – out of nowhere again – just in time for their Eric to valiantly save the day, while being all suave about it. Real heroes – " I put the glass down on the coffee table with a thud, "do not have the time to be suave!"

He said nothing for a beat, just looking at me.

"You do not know very much about vampires and how they behave," he said finally. "But you are clever", he continued, as I sputtered at his dismissal of my speech, "for forming that theory with what you do know about humans." He set his blood done on the table.

"I am very old; my counterpart is likewise. We are easily able to overpower most vampires, particularly the one we have made. She was not a real risk to your Bill, and he reacted in kind. If I became annoyed with having to discipline my progeny for bad behaviour every time it happened, that would be a – waste of emotion." His lips crooked into a slight smile at the thought.

It chapped my hide when people acted as if they had that much control over their feelings – like they could just decide to be happy or decide not to be pissed off. I opened my mouth to argue but his lifted eyebrow cut me off.

"Displays of sexual prowess are used to exert dominance in situations with other vampires. He was trying to push for an edge over me and Compton with you, nothing more."

I stiffened at his summation of me as a piece of useful collateral in a power game that was over my head. Saying I was _clever_ – for god's sake – how patronising could you get?

"Well" I said acidly, striving for the upper hand in this. "That's hardly the biggest issue is it?" I pressed on, pleased at the confidence in my voice. "Where did they come from? Why are they here? How did they get here?"

He shifted in his seat, looking slightly uncomfortable, weighing what he was about to say. I leant, busting to finally _know_.

"There are some who believe in a – first vampire, one who brought our species into existence. Her blood is said to have very special qualities that elevate the ones who drink it. Bill apparently consumed the blood and was changed."

"Changed how?" I interrupted breathlessly, unable to stop myself.

"He became much stronger and more volatile. She - ", he was watching me carefully now, "was certain you had seen some of this from her memories already."

I nodded my assent but couldn't resist adding: "Volatile – Bill Compton? Now I know they're shitting us," I said dryly. I was only half-joking.

He gave me a small smile then, giving him a dangerously boyish look. He shook his head, still smiling, "Ordinarily, I would agree. Although he does seem very passionate when it comes to your safety. It took a lot of convincing to keep him away."

His smile vanished. "They are concerned about the possibility of us becoming contaminated by their memories and interactions with us, leading to complications for them."

"What kind of complications?" I asked. My mind buzzing around what he had just said. It didn't make a lick of sense. If they were so concerned about us being contaminated by involvement with them; Why interfere with Bill or stop him from doing anything?

"That our actions here will create consequences which will alter the time they are from. Alter them perhaps. Possibly enough to keep them from returning to the point of time they should be right now. They are concerned your recent – relaxed attitude – is a sign of this already happening."

_Relaxed attitude! _Like hell.

"Look fella, I've been going out of my mind with wanting to know what is going on, and how I'm mixed up in this mess! I wanted to head over to the Compton place and pull it out of him and whatever combination of y'all was clustered over there. Yes – with silver if I had too," I yelled, remembering what he said about other Sookie's threats.

"So why didn't you?" he asked intently, leaning forward. His impassive face was back.

"I – I don't know! It just seemed like it would happen eventually, that you would rock up and tell me. I didn't really think about it much!" It sounded weak, even to me.

I took a breath, trying to regain some calm.

"Give a lady some time to think" I snapped, when he started to open his mouth.

I rolled everything around in my brain, like a ball. Trying to look for something that would explain my behaviour – my feelings about this whole damn mess. The ball in my mind inflated as I added more and more to the problem as I pondered.

That's the problem with metaphors. They might give you a different way of looking at something, but you still have to do the work yourself.

"I suppose I felt I could – trust – what was happening was too crazy for it to be over; Other Sookie seemed so hell-bent on getting back here to see Gran and then she just fell off the face of the Earth, so I knew something important was happening." I paused, collecting my thoughts again.

"I'm not dumb," I said, a little defensively. "I might be impulsive sometimes, and I speak before I think – but I _do_ think. There had to be a reason for the radio silence, and I didn't want to muck it up in case things got even more screwed up." I gave a little, strained laugh. "Like suddenly, even more Sookies would appear. Popping out of the ground or it would just start raining them: A lot more Sookies – thousands of me – falling on the ground around us." I waved my hands around, trying to make a joke.

Something moved behind his impassive stare then. "Yes" he said evenly, "that would certainly be food for thought".

Huh, definitely not his sense of humour, leading other Sookie – future Sookie – to play Corpse Bride then.

"Nothing else?" he pressed. "No other influences apart from your own – thinking – about the situation? No memories you may have glimpsed?'

"Not that I am aware – but I don't have any idea how it could really. I only got flashes of stuff, mainly about Gran - although I am mighty curious about what Rene was doing, wandering around in my house, with his belt undone!"

His eyes widened slightly, but I kept on. "Besides if it had changed me – then how would I know anyway? I'd already_ be _changed. The damage" I couldn't keep the sarcasm out of my voice now, "is already done".

He nodded, considering my words.

"That seems reasonable," he said. He stood and walked back to the kitchen to deposit his now empty bottle in the bin. I trailed after him uncertainly. When I came in, he continued with an authoritative tone now ringing through the words.

"They are insistent we continue to follow – as closely as we can – the events they remember as they work on the issue from their end. Mr Compton will accompany you to Fangtasia tomorrow night, and you will aid me with your skill. I will tell you more when you arrive. Will you be able to do this?"

I was shell-shocked by the sudden leap forward and started to argue. "I'll have to ask Sam for the night off – "

Eric however took my words as consent, tossing out "Good, I will see you then". He started to stroll out towards the door. It was a dismissal. He was leaving me here to stew in my ignorance, once again.

"Wait! You can't just – you haven't explained anything! What does this first vampire nonsense have to do with them being here? How was Bill _consumed_ exactly?"

He stopped for a moment, sighing and shifting his shoulders. I caught up with him and stood hands on hips, waiting for an explanation.

"It is something they are close-lipped about," he said finally. "They have not confirmed anything for me. They are also worried about – raining Sookies – if they divulge anything, but it seems if we already know some facts and we think about it. The damage - as you say - has already been done."

I hesitated, listening to the consideration creep into his tone as he spoke again. "You are in the position of knowing more about your capabilities than I am. Pam was adamant this was your fault. My other self was not able to dismiss it out of hand."

I gasped at his insinuation. "Are you suggesting? Mister – I can not travel through time!"

"You both seem too childishly angry about it to have _knowingly_ done anything. While I wouldn't call you dumb; Neither would I call you a great actress."

He cut through my protestations with his words again, "We need to think more carefully about this – I will see you tomorrow, and we can continue our conversation then. For now, I have to see about acquiring your escort for tomorrow."

This time he gave me a nod of acknowledgement before walking out the door towards Bill's house. I watched him from the porch, my hands still attached to my hips.

"So" I called out at his departing back. "How is any of that stuff explained by knowing whether the blood I gave you was my type?"

He was in front of me in a flash, his eyes scanning my body once more, before resting on mine.

"I found myself – curious – about understanding the effect you have on me," he said quietly. "You are not the only one who has been _thinking,_ these past few days". Before I could open my mouth to make him explain that little statement, he had shot off, flying, towards Bill's house.

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**Please let me know your thoughts :) The next instalment may take a week or so while I finish a pressing uni assessment. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you may recognise from True Blood or its source material.**

* * *

I kept my eyes trained on the road ahead, as the white central line in the centre rushed past. Bill had picked me up earlier, with a stiff little bow to my Gran and a murmured "Sookie" before he dropped his lips on my hand in greeting.

It was Gran's muted sigh of pleasure that had stopped me from wrenching it away. She thought we were going on a date – a second date. I had heard the pleased murmur of her thoughts all day after I had told her. I'd tried to downplay it but she had brushed my words away: "Oh, hush now. If he wants to take you out in the evening for a drive and you want to accompany him. That's fine. You're an adult Sookie – I trust you to make the right decisions."

My mouth opened again, to protest. She took a step away and then stopped. She didn't look me in the eye this time but her voice was determined, "I just – don't need to know the details of those decisions."

My mouth closed. She was right. She didn't have to know the details of this – any – of this. It was better for her if she remained oblivious.

As she moved away, I felt – pensive. I snorted. Who actually felt pensive? Apart from frail heroines in romance novels dying from the crushing weight of their own insipidity? Well – me, I realised. I'd never had secrets from Gran, and know I had a few whoppers.

Bill speaking brought me back to the present. Apparently, I would need to mull over my deep thoughts later.

"I'm sorry – I didn't catch what you said," I said, turning to look at him. I wondered what I should feel; sitting next to a man I had a second hand memory of both surrendering myself to wholly and fearing would kill me. Those words he had spoken as he looked at me, covered in blood, were terrifying.

They felt far away though as I looked at this man as he drove the car, fingers tapping the wheel slightly.

"I'm sorry that Eric didn't bother to tell you anything. He is not – known – for his patience when it comes to those he sees as little more than packaging for food," his voice was straightforward, neutral even.

"I remember you telling me the night we went there. Which I'm kind of wishing you hadn't now," I said, picking some lint off my skirt. "Wish I could just take back that night and shove it where the sun don't shine."

I was wearing a white cotton dress, low cut across my front and back. I'd picked it as some kind of perverse fuck you to the fact everyone else seemed to have more knowledge in this situation than me. I remembered the way my counterpart had talked about the girl in the white dress. I wanted to show her there was something I had which she didn't. I closed my eyes for a moment. I was turning into a not too pleasant stereotype of a Southern woman – one who communicated passive-aggressively through_ clothes_.

He seemed pleased. I could tell he felt my scrutiny before was a sign of something else. I sighed heavily.

"Sookie, whatever happens tonight with Eric – know that I will keep you safe," he was saying now and I felt myself relax slightly. This man had saved my life once already. I was entrusted to him at least for the trip up to Fangtasia. More than likely, he wasn't about to try and kill me tonight.

His eyes darted furtively towards me, gauging my reaction. I gave him a weak smile.

"Why – thank you, Bill. That is certainly good to know." He waited for me to continue and I cast around for something to say; "Good to know," I repeated, a little lamely. I winced at how awkward I sounded.

Bill didn't seem to notice though, pressing on: "I am not like him, Sookie. I will not let you become leverage. You are a person – and a lady – and I will not forget that."

I gave out a crack of laughter. It all seemed so ludicrous, being reassured of my value from someone who would, one day, threaten to rape my future lover - or coffin sharing partner - for revenge: "Bill Compton, I appreciate you saying that and for your – protection. I guess I need as much as I can get lately. I don't need you to protect my virtue though, I'm in charge of that."

I had to send him a message, I thought, a "back-off" message. I couldn't afford to get too tangled up with anyone, before I knew more about what was happening. I didn't want to put all my eggs in one Bill-shaped basket. Neutral territory here.

He straightened his shoulders, forcing his hands into the wheel with greater force. "Eric is old and devious. Forgive me, I do not mean to offend your notions. You are capable," he stopped momentarily as if I would go into a cartwheel about being told I was functional, continuing slightly daunted, when I did not respond: "But he is capable of all things. I would not trust his intentions."

I bit the inside of my cheek slightly to keep from starting in on an argument. I didn't even know what he was trying to tell me with all of this. Stay away from Eric – he might hurt you? As opposed to every other vampire I'd ever met? Apart from Bill, who was going out his way to remind me of his helpful Boy Scout nature; so helpful he was now hand-delivering me to Eric.

Instead, I changed the subject. "So, what did he tell you?" I asked.

"About what?" he returned.

Oh for the love of…! He was playing dumb. He had to be.

"About our visitors – he told me about some first vampires' blood being involved in making you crazytown, but then he shot out the door after giving me some watered down crap about time travelling paradoxes," I snapped, irritated at his pretence.

"The blood of Lillith?" he asked, his voice deep and face shuttered.

"He didn't give a name, just said the first vampire," I said slowly, watching him as I tried to work out his reaction.

"He didn't mention it to you?" I asked casually, in a soft voice.

"We are vampire. We do not need to communicate in the same way you do," he said. Well, _excuse_ me.

"What does that mean?" I snapped at him.

"He did not try and manipulate me with lies he knows I would have been able to see through", he said abruptly. He was taking the turn-off into Shreveport. My heart clutched a little. We were getting closer.

"Well, what did he say to you then?" I said seething. My counterpart's words came back to me then, "Didn't I stake you once tonight?" Well, you know what they say. If at first you don't succeed: try, try, try again.

"I am not sure it would be wise to tell you now – later when we drive back I will," he said, twisting his hands on the wheel slightly. "It is a precaution only" his voice was steadier now. "He will sense if you are disquieted and try to question you."

"So?" I bit out, my arms folded.

"Sookie – you are, in many ways, an innocent. Let that be your protection tonight" he said flatly.

I gave my head a tiny shake as we pulled into the Fangtasia carpark.

"My innocence is my protection now? I thought you were all the protection I needed Bill," I said in a falsely sweet voice as he parked the car.

He gazed into my eyes for a moment, his hand coming forward to rest on the back of my seat. "Sookie, I will protect you. Know this. Even if you insist on endangering yourself with Eric – "

"Bill Compton" I hissed, thinking I would finally lose the plot if I had to listen to just _one more word_. "I have no idea what you keep alluding to with all your dire little hints about keeping away from Eric. Frankly, I don't think you do either – you keep bangin' on about my innocence as if I'm twelve and have been spirited away to fucking Narnia! Warning me up and down, until you're blue in the face about how dangerous he is – except it doesn't change anything, does it? We are all stuck together in this cosmic fuck-up for as long as it takes to get unfucked! Something none of us - " my hand curled around the door handle, and wrenched it open as I shot out, "know how to do!"

I stumbled a little on my way out of the car. It's tough to be deft on kitten heels you've worn once before, three years ago, when you're in a real snit and aren't watching where you're going.

"Sookie" said a voice behind me, as I righted myself, internally daring Bill to say anything, "I thought I heard you screaming my name".

I lurched around to see Future Eric standing there, wearing a white button- up silk shirt over a pair of distressed black jeans, his hair brushed back over his brow; Yep, definitely better short.

"Where's your girlfriend?" I hissed viciously as I walked past him, heading for the entrance to Fangtasia. I set off, stumbling as gracefully as I could.

He moved in front of me leaning against the door with his arms crossed. Before I could even process the movements he'd taken to get there, he was speaking: "Flouncing off from her escort after he impugned her honour, no doubt. Shall I kill him for you?""

"Eric – what the hell? I don't know what romantic gestures my supposedly more mature and enlightened self expects of you," I said coming up to him with my fists balled, "but a gentleman does not flirt with another lady – even if she happens to be the same lady!" I finished majestically. Gotcha there, Northman.

Eric raised one eyebrow at me.

"Why Sookie, I had no _idea_ you found the prospect of Bill Compton's disembowelment to be flirtatious. I will have to pass this onto my counterpart so he can add some spice to his – union – with your future self, " he said, noting with satisfaction the emotions that flitted across my face.

It was my Eric. He had cut his hair short.

I sputtered, looking at him more closely.

"You cut your hair?" I asked disbelievingly. I couldn't help myself. My eyes dived over him again and came back to rest on his face, now beautifully offset by his shorter hair.

'Your observational skills have improved" he stated blandly. He seemed to be radiating smugness now, although outwardly, nothing had changed. Oh, except for the hair.

"Well – how am I gonna tell you apart from your big bro? Put a bell on you?" I asked, trying for glib self-assurance.

"Like that creature you feed tuna wears?" he asked, flicking a glance towards Bill as he approached.

"Ye – Yes. It's a damn nuisance, having to put a bell on something so you know where it is all the time," I said crisply.

"Oh, don't worry. I promise to come when you call." He gave me a wolfish smile, before stepping aside for me to walk through the door. I felt a jolt in my stomach, and ducked my head, before darting inside.

* * *

**Couldn't help myself - hope you like it! Now I really, really have to get started on my uni assessment. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you may recognise from True Blood or its source material. **

* * *

I stomped down the hall and stopped as soon as I realised I didn't know where I was supposed to be going. His cool touch on my arm surprised me, and I looked up into blue eyes.

"This way" he said, nudging me through a door that led into the main bar area of Fangtasia.

I took a seat, forcing myself to _act_ as if I was relaxed and comfortable. Pam was already there with a bored expression. Along with the vampire who had been serving drinks at the bar, the night _it_ had happened. Longshadow.

"Finally" she said. "What took you so long?"

"Sookie and I were flirting in the carpark," answered Eric easily, as she snorted.

I stiffened but stopped myself from saying anything: Don't give him what he wants Stackhouse, I whispered to myself.

Bill glided in after us, his face shuttered.

"Will you explain now, Northman?" he spat, coming to stand behind me with his hands on my shoulders.

I didn't like his possessive stance, but neither did I like Eric trying to goad me, so I didn't pull away. I just sat there, fuming.

Pam gave a short, unpleasant laugh. At a look from Eric, she got up and walked out a side door to some part of Fangtasia I hadn't seen yet.

"Honey" she said, as she went sauntering out "you don't do subtle well".

Pam, I was learning, liked to feel she had the last word.

Eric spoke, regaining my attention; "Someone has been stealing money from the bar – a lot of money. You will read the employees to discover who."

"I can only read humans," I returned uneasily, flinching away from the idea of _using_ my disability in that way. Sneaking in and snatching their thoughts unawares to use against them – it was what people always feared I would do to them.

"You will only have to read humans," said Eric, his eyes on Bill.

"What if it's a vampire?" I asked. He looked at me then.

"No vampire would be stupid enough to try and steal from me," he answered dismissively. He looked at Bill again. "They know the penalties."

"Only humans are that stupid, hey?" I asked sarcastically. The vampires gathered in the room, looked at me without speaking. In this, they seemed to have reached a consensus. I opened my mouth to let them have it, but stopped; I could feel the void that was Pam returning with someone in tow – a very, very frightened someone.

"What will you do to them?" I asked suddenly, "The human – if it is one of them?" My social justice crusade abandoned for another, and much more urgent one.

"Deal with them" Eric said softly, his fangs extending luxuriously out. Behind him, I could see the vampire bartender had copied the movement. A cold shudder went through me.

"No – I won't do it. I won't help if you kill them", my voice was fairly even but there was a slight quaver to it at the end. I dug my fingers into my thigh. I had to appear as outwardly determined as I felt, otherwise this was never going to work. The silence carried my own heartbeat back to me, and I realised what it meant – you'll never be able to hide from them. They'll always know when you're feeling frightened.

I felt Bill step back as Eric's face dropped to mine, his eyes intense and focused. "Sookie" he said in a compelling tone. "You will use your telepathy to read the minds of the humans I will present to you. You will not concern yourself with what happens afterwards." I felt something slide behind my eyes. It was like putting your hand down on the couch to realise your cat was sleeping there. Where you trusted there to be one thing – suddenly there wasn't, and it was moving and _alive_. I blinked the slick sensation away.

"Glamouring don't work on me Eric. You'll have to actually agree to act like a person for once" I said, feeling a glow of pleasure at the stunned look that flitted across Eric's face for a moment.

I turned to Bill who was watching me with the same stupefied shock I was coming to expect whenever I opened my mouth – and showed I had opinions – around him lately.

"I'd just like to thank you Bill Compton, for being so willing to protect me from someone getting in my head and trying to control me. It really helps – to know I've got such a gallant protector," I said, pitching my voice to carry a hint of disdain. I smiled then, as sweetly as I could manage. Wow, being around vampires was really bringing out the bitch in me.

"Very well," said Eric, standing as Pam pushed a middle-aged man into the room and guided him to a chair in front of me. "We will do it your way." He straightened and walked behind Bruce. I watched Bruce sink lower into his seat, as if he was trying to retract himself into his body. He clapped his hands onto the man's shoulders and raised his voice slightly. "Bruce – My most valued employee!" He winked at Pam over Bruce's head then: "Apart from the beauteous Pamela naturally".

"Oh, stop it you" replied Pam in a deadpan tone, from behind me. He smiled a little and lowered his face to take a sniff of Bruce. The fear bubbled even higher in Bruce's thoughts and I squirmed uncomfortably. It wasn't that I was a telepath alone. The feelings that were lancing off Bruce and into me were so strong I didn't have to be an empath to be affected either. It was – he was a human being, and I was a human being. Simple as that. I wanted to be able to comfort and protect him – take him away from what was scaring him so much.

I heard the snick of a vampire's fangs from behind and it propelled me forward: "Stop it – can't you see you're scaring him! If you get him terrified like this, all he will be able to think about is how scared he is – and then I won't be able to get anything out of him – just, just back off!"

I grasped Bruce's hands and flinched as the static of his thoughts slammed into mine.

_How can they even think that I took the money – they're going to kill me – going to drain and leave me for dead – why did I agree to work for them – why is she mouthing off to them – don't she know it will just mean they will get angrier – oh my- she's touching me – why's she doing that – what do you mean "get from me" – oh my god – is she some kind of torturer? _

There was a tiny gap in his thoughts as he took in my smile, grinning somewhat manically at him, and the white dress that seemed to glow in the darkness of the bar.

The thoughts came back with renewed force: _a psycho torturer with an angel's face – like something out of a HBO show – goddammit, I knew it! – I knew I should have put my foot down with Christianne and told her no when she wanted it, how the fuck are they going to afford it when I'm dead?_

My lips twitched. I guess thats accountants for you. Always thinking of money.

"Bruce" I said, attempting to stem the tide, "did you take the money from the bar?" His bubble of half-formed protests plopped into my mind, and me back into my seat with my hands folded.

"Not him" I said shortly, letting him take in what I had said before trying again. I needed him to calm a little so the thoughts would be more defined. Taking a breath to steady myself, I continued, hand reaching to lightly touch his forearm.

"Bruce, do you know who _did_ take the money?" His thoughts welled up again: _god I wish I did – if only I did – I could tell them and then maybe they wouldn't kill me – _I pulled away quickly.

"He doesn't know," I said, and Eric nodded to Pam who hauled him off the chair and out of the room. Moments later, she was back with a woman who trotted eagerly after her.

"Will Master be there?" she asked in a breathy voice. Which was followed quickly by "Master – you're here!" The woman pranced over delightedly. Well you didn't have to be a telepath to know what she was thinking about.

"Another astute observer", commented Eric, glancing at me to see how I reacted.

"Oh Master!" the woman gushed, as if he had been flirting with her. Taking a seat, she tilted her head to the side and craned her neck slightly backwards to keep him in her sight. The gesture, with her bared throat struck me as downright provocative to a vampire. Then, she lifted a finger and ran it down her throat. Choking back a laugh, I leant forward.

"Hello – " I paused, and Eric supplied from behind her "Ginger".

"Ginger" I said, reaching for her hand: "I'm going to ask you some questions".

She flinched away as if I was going to strike her, and hissed at me "Don't you touch me bitch!"

I don't move, surprised by her reaction. Pam moved to restrain her, forcing her forward so she splays over the table. Drawing a breath in, I visualise it flowing around a set of tumbledown walls – the ruins of an old farmhouse. Each particle of breath I imagine sweeping over and against the walls, channelling the air into a new shape, solidifying the walls and increasing my resistance to the onslaught of another furious, terrified mind. When I'm finished, I tentatively I place a hand on her arm and reach out.

I'm met with - nothing. Keeping my eyes on her I slowly inch the walls down, letting more of her seep through. I can catch a faint, insistent echo now and I reach for it with my mind. Following it, I am able to pick up on the distant sound of her thoughts, even if they're still muted. I can feel myself wanting to push in and explore – find out what is going on, as I've never encountered something like this, but I have a job to do.

"Ginger" I say and my voice is cool and distant to my ears, "did you take the money?"

"No" she said sulkily, although as she had her face pressed sideways into the tabletop; I'm sure even my Gran would give her a pass on that one. Her thoughts flickered briefly but confirmed what she was saying.

I pressed on; "Ginger do you know who did?"

"No" she snapped out, a little louder this time. "I'd tell you Master – you've got to believe me – I'd tell _you_", she said.

I did believe her. There was nothing I believed in more right than that Ginger's devotion to her Master, she was like a dog on point around him, watching him for the slightest sign of interest. I didn't understand the feeling I was getting from her mind though. It felt distant as if she was faraway, or _buried_ beneath something.

Cautiously, I tried an adjustment to my visualisation technique and started to dig with my fingers in bare earth. I imagined Ginger beneath me, her hands reaching out for me, imploring me to free her.

_He'll kill me – _It floated up out of the silence that was her mind and I latched onto it.

"Who Ginger? Who will kill you?" There was a silence as Ginger twitched under Pam's grip. A face appeared in Ginger's mind – like the phrase before it seemed to float up from a dark, hidden place and pool in my hand as I reached for it. Ginger's mind, I suddenly realised, was like a well. Things had been pushed down so far – compacted – by another mind, that to be able to connect with it I had to haul it out by hand; He had trapped the information in a place she couldn't reach by herself.

My eyes snapped open. I looked at the vampire bartender who sat a few tables away. It was his face I had seen in Ginger's mind. His eyes met mine and he _knew_.

* * *

I felt him rip into me before I heard the sound of the chairs falling he'd pushed over to get to me. Or at least – that is what it seemed like. The bite scalded my skin in waves of pain that seemed to travel not just from the site but towards it as well. I was overwhelmed: limp and legless in that pain. I could feel the force in his attack and a part of me offered up its interpretation quite casually, as I watched an arc of blood leave me and fly up into the air. I felt it land on my face, wet and sticky.

"You're going to die" it mentioned. I agreed with it.

I fell backwards until my head struck the floor and it lolled uselessly to the left. I could see Ginger, next to me with her limbs crumpled. She'd been hurled away by the vampire as he crash-tackled me in an attempt to stop me from revealing his identity. I tried to reach out to her mind again, to feel someone with me in my last moments as I died.

Gran – I wished for her then, with a passion I was surprised my body could still feel. I wished she could be here to hold me, to comfort me, as she always did. I closed my eyes; trying to will those feelings into existence.

"Sookie" a voice said from above me and I relaxed, letting the feeling of numbness come. It was just like falling asleep, I thought idly.

"Sookie," said the voice again "you need to drink". That's nice, I thought. I am thirsty. I wonder if Heaven has sweet tea? The voice wasn't gentle and encouraging though. It was urgent and demanding.

"Sookie, you need to drink _now_" the voice was insisting again, and grating on my calm feeling. I opened my eyes, to tell ol'bossypants off - Couldn't it see I was dying here? What more could a girl do?

The blood hit my tongue and I would have flinched if I could, but I was too broken. The blood poured into me like it had found its new home. The room around me shifted into focus and I looked into the blue eyes of the man who had fed me blood.

"Sookie" he said again.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think :) **


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognisable from True Blood or its source material. **

* * *

I was being lifted out of his arms and into Bill's before I could make sense of what had happened. The taste of blood tingled down my throat, and I watched Eric get up from his kneeling position, without looking at me.

"Sookie" asked a new voice. "Are you healing, sweetheart?"

I looked up into his Bill's eyes and saw the concern. He wanted me safe.

Eric's voice cut through; "Longshadow is dead."

In my periphery vision, I saw Pam stir something on the ground with a tip of her shoe and say in a disgusted tone, "and messy".

Bill's eyes did not move from mine, although he did blanch slightly. I could feel it – a tiny shiver that ran through his body as he supported me.

"Yes, I've heard that happens when a vampire is staked," he said. He smiled when he saw a tiny smile curve around my lips at his words. He looked more alive, than he had before. There was a warmth suffusing his skin and his eyes seemed almost playful. It would have been a beautiful moment of life triumphing over the vagaries of death – in more ways than one – if it were not for Ginger's wailing.

Eric tapped Ginger with his foot. "Enough Ginger" he said, "you have work to do. Clean Longshadow's remains off my floor."

I pushed myself up into a seating position.

"You gave me your," my tongue slid over the places it had been in my mouth, "blood." He didn't turn to look at me as I spoke.

Instead, he turned to Pam and spoke to her in a different language. Their voices were low but intense. Her arm came up to touch him on the shoulder, but he brushed it off quickly.

"Why?" I called out, slightly louder to get his attention. I could feel Bill's hands sliding down my arms, urging me to my feet. Bill was speaking to me gently now; "Come Sookie, I will take you home. There is no reason you need to be here for this."

Eric did turn then and gave me an impassive look. Below him, Ginger was on her hands and knees, gathering up parts of Longshadow.

"I protect my assets, Miss Stackhouse. Nothing more" he said, as Bill guided me towards the door.

"Compton", his voice stopped our progress. "A vampire is dead. We need to discuss this. In my office, now; leave the girl with Pam."

Bill started to protest; "She has had a terrible shock, Northman. She needs to be cared for by someone who knows how to tend to a human. They have needs for comfort – "

"Oh, I can comfort her just fine, Billy," said Pam, strolling up to us. "Besides, I think you need to take some time to digest her first, before you get started on the second course." She stopped and reached out to take me by the shoulder. Her hand danced up and a finger tapped on the left side of my throat. "We don't want you to get indigestion."

Suddenly, I was seeing his rosy hue in a different light. I stumbled out of Bill's arms and Pam latched a hand around my waist.

She led me into a bathroom and propped me up against a sink. I stared at the image in the mirror. I was soaked in blood. There were darker patches of tissue as well sprinkled over my face, and a crumpled sob rose in my throat when I saw them. I started to desperately dab at myself with paper towels trying to get it off.

"You know," said Pam from where she watched me. "You could do us both a favour and let me lick it off."

I flicked a piece of Longshadow off me with a fingernail in her direction. "There you go," I said. I'm amazed at how even my voice sounds. How – how callous I am. Someone just died in front of me. Perhaps his heart had stopped however many centuries ago, but he was still _alive_ in the sense he was walking around and talking. I mean – you can't really argue too much with that definition of life can you?

I took another look at myself. I still looked the same.

Pam tilted her head at me. "Its better when you scream, you know."

I shot her a glance. My eyes caught the edge of my arm, slick with blood. I winced and turned away.

"Don't you guys ever think of anything else?" I tried to sound light, but just sounded tired.

"Not if we can help it," she replied, "but I wasn't talking about sex." Her hand swept up and plucked a piece of Longshadow, from just above the line where my now red dress cradled my right breast. Her fingers are cool. They pause for a moment, resting, as if she is trying to recall a memory.

"When I was human," she said her fingers ghosting back to her side, "it helped when I screamed when someone died. Afterwards."

"Wasn't it a little late by then?" I asked; my hand scrubbing at the place her hand had been with paper towel.

"Death doesn't happen for other people," she said. "Oh, vampires get staked, silvered and burnt until the smell rises up in the air and gets in your damn hair for _weeks_ – humans flop about in cars getting killed in accidents, and break themselves open on other humans fists."

"Some" she whispers, the displaced air cooling on my skin from where she leant forward to breathe the words down my ear, "die of _exhaustion_." I move back, feeling wary but also tired of all this hard-hitting innuendo coming my way.

I look back but she has taken a step back from me as well and we regard each other across the distance.

"It doesn't matter though; they crumble and wither and are gone. Our tears don't bring them back. Our mewling that it's just not _fair_ is ignored." She chuckles warmly, tossing her head back for a second.

"We don't cry for them or what they've lost – we cry for ourselves. We scream for ourselves. It doesn't _do_ anything, of course. Except make us feel better – because then we think someone might do the same thing for us. "

"That's horrible," I said, slapping the drenched paper towels into the sink where they squelched into a soggy ball. I looked up at myself, and took in the clean skin that showed above the bloody dress. In the dim light, with the dark background behind me, my head and shoulders almost looked like they were floating, suspended, in the air by themselves.

She gave a tiny shrug and moved away from me towards the door.

"Come on," she called back. "I'll get you something else to wear. Something red. You look good in red."

* * *

The shirt she gave me was an oversized red tee shirt that hit me about mid-thigh, when I pulled it on. Bending forward to pick up a brush off the bar from where Pam had dropped it pointedly before leaving. I started to pull the brush through my hair, letting the gentle tugging take away some of the tension in my scalp. It had been a long night with the events blending into a shifting soup of sensation. Every now and again, something would jump out at me. Seemingly small details: the sound my shoes made as I walked across the carpark, a flash of light reflecting off Pam's bracelet as I entered the bar, blue eyes gleaming down at me.

A twinge of heat slithered down and I stiffened. Someone – he – was standing behind me. I turned to him. He watched me with that same slight frown I'd seen the first night bubbling his forehead.

"Apparently I'm not allowed to kill you," he said. "Although," he took a step closer to me and a smile danced on his lips when I took an involuntary step back. "It would be so much easier."

"What the – are you, are you _serious_? After that bloodbath out there – " my hands stab out towards the bar. "You are joking about killing me? That is not funny!"

"So its not your sense of humour then" he said quietly.

My eyes widened. His words mirrored mine so closely from the night before.

He widened his eyes back at me in response. Okay, he was definitely playin' with me now.

"There is someone wandering around my town, knocking off women who – consorted – with vampires. Just strangling them," my hands reach up in a beseeching gesture and then fall back to my sides as I fling them apart. I don't know whom I am asking for intervention from. Definitely not God. He wants us to work out our own problems.

"Can't you understand? Can't you understand that maybe I'm scared of just – " I stop and my fingers twitch in a cutting off gesture. Pam's words come back to me then.

"And then I come here and before I can even get my head straight, I nearly get killed!"

"You are scared of dying" Eric said, his eyes dropping away to the floor. I guess he is bored after figuring out what made the little wind-up human tick so loud.

I start to huff out the words, "well I – " Its not just fear I think. It's more than fear. The way it pushes at the corners of my mind and keeps me from sleeping.

"I could protect you," he said simply. "If you were mine."

"Sookie is mine," protested a voice behind me, and I twist away, feeling oddly grateful for that get out of jail free card; even if it did come from that corner.

There was something so matter of fact about the way Eric had said it. Bland. It wasn't an offer – _couldn't _be. He was threatening to kill me moments before. Well, joking about it. But it shows that somewhere in that twisty vamp brain he is thinking about it, as an option.

"The blood you gave her will fade! Your influence will be washed away when she sees you for what you truly are!" Bill snarled at Eric, who regarded him coolly.

"What do you mean?" I snapped, walking over to the couch in the office and sat down. My arms snapping over my chest and then moving quickly down to tug the shirt over my knees when it rose up.

Bill swung towards me, his eyes seeking mine as he crouched.

"Sookie you are clever I know – I do not mean to suggest you are not perceptive. Please – "

"Bill – enough already. I get you think its important to keep reassuring me you don't think I'm dumb, but the fact you keep at it all the time, only makes me think you really do." He protests, and I feel better for having said what I hadn't been letting myself think before. I fidget with the hemline of the shirt and ask again.

"What do you mean the blood will fade? Does it have some kind of – I don't know – power? Power Eric could use on me?"

He takes my hand and holds it. I let him. I need to know what is happening around me, happening to me.

Bill hesitates, and I shoot a look at Eric who is waiting with a slightly amused look on his face.

"Anytime you want to chip in," I say sarcastically, "go right ahead".

Bill gently squeezes my hand, regaining my attention. "It means he can find you. Anywhere you are. He can also feel your feelings along with you."

"Right now, its anger" Eric announced, in a theatrical whisper.

Bill rocked back on his heels a little, only focused on me. "You will probably be attracted to him."

"More attracted, I'm sure you meant to say," calls out Eric. I feel something towards him right then, all right; a spasm of rage, twitching up and down my body. He is enjoying this – me being bullied and exploited and attacked_ viciously_.

My heart seems to slow and I start to really feel it – the sense I could have died. Been no more. My life fading away while my mind nattered to me about fucking sweet tea. My body picked over by an uncaring pathologist's eyes before being bundled into a coffin, which would sink down into the ground of Bon Temps, loamy soil cradling my bones for an eternity. Leaving only Jason to care for Gran. _Gran_.

It had happened before because of me, _because of me,_ and hanging out with people when I knew it wasn't the best idea. Doing what I was doing now, and just going along with it because I wanted to feel that I was _succeeding_ with people for once; that they wanted to spend time with me, talk to me – that I was important enough to try and use. I cringed away from the insight and felt a sick feeling rise up inside. Shame twisted me but I pushed it away. I could stop this – or at least – stop letting people make my decisions for me about what I was going to do.

My resolve twisted in my chest and I could feel myself grappling with it, straightening it with my decision.

"Ok" I say.

Bill looks at me in his lingering way, which means he is surprised but trying not to let it show.

"I've been punctured and stitched up once tonight – " I begin.

"You're welcome," says Eric. Jesus, _now_ he won't shut up.

"And that's enough – once is enough! We're going to work out how to spirit our – friends – back to whatever fucked up future time where I'm climbing into coffins with you" I spat. I came to my feet and regarded Eric over Bill's head.

"Then we're going to do it! I don't care if it changes things for them – hell, its already been changed by them being here – although how that is even possible is beyond me. And then, afterwards we will throw away the key to whatever dimensional portal started this cluster fuck for us all, and I will go back to my life in Bon Temps with no interference from vampires!"

* * *

**Please let me know your thoughts :) **


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything you may recognise from True Blood or its source material. _

* * *

Eric gives me a cool look, but I hold my ground.

Bill gets up slowly, and looks at me, our eyes now level. "I will help you as much as I can."

I give him a nod. All this posturing is starting to wear me out. I wait for Eric to say something – to agree with me, to argue with me, but he just stands there watching us.

I take a breath, wishing I wearing more than just a tee shirt for this: "Well – What have they told you?" I demand. "How does Lillith figure into this?"

Eric reacts to that name by sliding his gaze towards Bill. "Sookie," he says, his eyes still on Bill, "how did you happen to hear that name?"

I flap my hands in a frustrated gesture. "Gee Eric, because I was pooling our limited knowledge base with Bill in the car as we drove over, like you _arranged_ for us to do. I didn't realise it was a pop quiz and we weren't supposed to share answers!"

"Sookie seems antsy, Eric," Pam observes as she walks back into the room. "Humans can become irrational if the oxygen supply to their brain is lessened – Are you sure you gave her enough blood after Bill failed to revive her?"

She gives Bill a cheery little wave when he glares at her. I take a breath, as my mind tries to tackle this new revelation. What exactly happened in the room when I was out of it?

"Even after he practically dumped the entire contents of his veins down her throat?" she finishes, leaning against the wall in the same pose I'd seen second Pam take on _that_ night.

It jerks my thoughts back to what's uppermost right now on the Sookie Stackhouse list of vampire arse kickin' conversational priorities; "So what? Even if I'm more vampire now then what's on the outside pack," I tap my chest to make my point, "it doesn't change anything about the fact we have duplicates running around – and running the show, I might add. We don't know anything about what they're here for or what it means – how they got here – and yet, we're what?" My hands fling out to indicate everything in the room, "re-enacting parts of a play were we let them decide on all the lines, despite the fact it just got them here anyway?" I lift my chin a little, waiting for their responses. "You know – the time they say they are trying to get away from so desperately?" I continue in the silence, when the vampires don't react.

Eric shifts his position, his eyes focused on the ground. Pam glances in his direction, and then flicks her attention back to me. "Why Sookie, I'm sure you wound Mr Compton. He was so weakened in his entirely valiant effort to save you, by giving you most of his blood, that he was even forced to take a little nibble." She lifts one hand and playfully twitches the fingers at me.

Bill is the one who shifts now and some of my uneasiness returns. How can I know what happened to me, when I was strewn on the floor bleeding, while the vampires circled?

"I'm surprised you aren't more concerned for the health of the vampire you claim to belong too. Are you – his I mean?"

I open my mouth to deny being anyone's blood bauble when Bill starts to speak: "Sookie is right. She is also - _mine,_" he says, with a hint of fang.

I want to stuff that word right back up his throat, but I stop myself. I want to extract myself as quickly as possible from this mess, and for that I need a plan to get my double ensconced safely back in her own time with her bloodsucking beau and homicidal progeny. If Bill has one to lay down; well, let him. I can always let him know later, that I had never agreed to be anyones' eclair.

"We need to take action – to send them back" Bill says persuasively. "Sookie has told me that I drank the blood of Lillith and was altered somehow. Could that be the key to this? Lillith's blood is sacred – maybe the act of consuming it creates a conduit of sorts? Your double" he says stiffly, glancing at Eric, "says you were motivated to get away. Perhaps to remove your selves from whatever was brought into being by my drinking the blood? You may have been unsuccessful and caught in the ripple effect, meaning you were flung back here."

Eric finally stirs now, "Lillith's blood may be old, but it is still vampire. It could not be responsible for this – we're not able to flit across time."

"Lillith is more than vampire," Bill protests. "We do not know what its powers may be."

"But then why aren't you" I gesture towards Bill, "here as well? Wouldn't you be thrown backwards with us?"

Bill lifts his eyebrows as he thinks, and gives a tired shake of the head; It's such a human gesture that my heart tugs in my chest. "I do not know. We need to speak with someone who knows more about what the effects of drinking Lillith's blood would be."

"The fairy they talked about?" I ask, my mind sifting through the night for anything that would be helpful. "They did say she might be involved though in getting them here, so maybe she's not the best person – " I break off, trying to recall more clearly what had been said.

"Who are you thinking of speaking too?" Eric says, addressing Bill, ignoring me completely.

"Sophie Anne" Bill says.

"You think that jumped up trollop knows anything of use?" Eric asks; leaning forward from his lounging position on the desk with his hands now flat on its top.

Pam gives an airy laugh "Come _on_ Compton. She is the last person who we want knowing anything about this! She will just twist it to whatever self-indulgent pursuit she can fit into her butterfly brain for the moment, and then – " her fingers snap dismissively. A qualm at the idea of someone _Pam_ thinks of as dangerously flippant flexes in my stomach.

"You'd be better off chasing after fairies with a net at the bottom of your little girlfriends' garden" she says. An angry pant escapes me at her assumption about me and Bill. She shoots me an interested look.

"Fairies are more myth than Lillith!" Bill insists with heat, missing my moment with Pam: "We can not be distracted from our best chance of actually finding out some information, by one comment, which could have been designed to throw us off the scent!"

His passion surprises me, and I wonder whether he is more shaken up about this then he has let on. All those cryptic hints to me about danger - the "trust no one" bullshit. Maybe he was masking some of his worry?

"I will take Sookie" Bill begins again, nodding at me "and go to her. I will not reveal anything about your situation." He throws this last out to Pam who scoffs.

"We must know more Eric, if we're to do anything," he says focusing back on Eric. "I can get at the knowledge better there – either through having her reveal what she would think of as nothing more than historical oddity or if she has some reason to keep silent; through what she doesn't say".

Eric inclines his head at this idea. It looks like they are both agreed on the potential for ridiculously circuitous communication. The pressure in my head makes me realise how tensely I'm holding myself, and I tell myself to relax before I get a headache. I make a note to myself: Pick up Tylenol before the big trip, Sookie. Looks like you will need it.

"I was recently at her court, and it will not attract attention if I return for a while. I can make our inquiries to her there. She may not even have realised I _had_ left, knowing her." Bill finishes, and waits. I can feel a prickle of tension as I wait as well.

"Why take the girl?" Eric asks as he moves to sit behind his desk, without looking at me. If I had hackles, that little comment would have raised them, for sure.

"She is as involved as you both are in this – and it will not be as difficult to explain why I am travelling with a human, then with my Sheriff or his second outside of your area."

"What if Sophie Anne takes a fancy to Miss Flavour of the Minute, here?" Pam interjects, "she isn't known for being too discriminating, and then we're down one telepath."

"There are ways around that," Bill answers quickly. "Besides, if I keep one of you with me, you will trust me more."

His voice drops a little, "even though you do not need to worry. I am also wanting to know what becomes of me – and if I can prevent it." He looks at Eric hard in the eyes. Apparently what he sees there spurs him on.

"I can just play the part of the infatuated vampire if it comes to that," argues Bill. "I can refuse Sophie Anne if need be, or ask her to delay while I prepare Sookie properly. Playing that part – it won't be hard."

Bill's eyes fall on me, and I can feel a tingle run through me, starting at my feet and building up through my legs. It's similar to the sensation of glamour, but it's inside all of me, not just my head. The similarity makes me realise, and I stiffen. These feelings: the tension while Bill waited for them to respond, the sympathy I felt for him. These aren't entirely my own. They are coming from the blood he gave me. I am being influenced – but I don't know the extent of it. I need time to regroup, to think.

Pam sniggers at his words.

"Oh please…"she begins, but is cut off by Eric.

"That Compton, is the only somewhat believable element of your little plan."

He closes his eyes, considering. "Very well," he says, "however, there is still the matter of Longshadow."

"I will need to silver you," he decides. "Only for the sake of appearances" he says with a sudden broad smile at Bill's discomfiture. "One or two nights, perhaps? Then I will release you. You can go back to Sophie Anne afterwards – and take Miss Stackhouse."

"So you do know my name," I chip in, sarcastically.

"It gives you a more plausible reason to return, with banishment from my area as a punishment" he continues, as if I haven't spoken. "It also provides you with some evidence of your – infatuated – vampire story, if need be." Eric leans back in his chair now and regards us evenly over the desk. He is lounging now, and it reminds me of the night I first saw him, before we were interrupted, and how supremely assured of his power he was, residing over his domain.

"I will let – any interested parties – " he says, with a glance at me. I know he was about to say something else and raise my internal hackles a little higher. I'm not allowed to know the finer details of their fancy pants vampire power structure?

" - know of the mitigating circumstances surrounding Longshadow's death and my actions in punishing you. I may still be asked to pay a fine depending on their whims, but I'm sure you will agree to compensate me for the inconvenience." He says as he comes to his feet.

"A very small price to pay – considering the alternative," he says, favouring Bill with another smile. Grimly, Bill lowers his head and acquiesces.

The sound of Ginger moving around in the bar penetrated through in the silence that followed his words.

"So when we will get this show on the road then?" I ask, "only I'll have to get more time off from Sam, and let Gran know where I'm going if its going to take a while. Where does this Sophie Anne live exactly?"

"New Orleans" answers Eric. "You will need at least a week, to be sure she'll even see you." He turns his attention to Bill "if we silver you now and keep you until nightfall two nights hence, it should be sufficient – "

_"No!"_ bursts out of me and I look around dazedly, trying to work out what to say next, some argument to appeal this course of events. Silvering him – it just seemed so barbaric. "I need him to drive me home."

Was that urgency even mine, I wonder? Was I being prompted to talk by him? _Could he do that_? The panic starts to rise, but I force it down. If nothing else, the extra time will give me some time away from them to sort my feelings out more, I tell myself.

Pam titters, "Oh Sookie – What is the adage: Treat 'em mean, keep him keen, I believe? You certainly embody it."

Bill looks at me with his gaze slightly softened, and my breath hitches. He knows what I'm trying to do, I realise, what I'm trying to prevent. Of course he can, my internal voice hisses. He may have even influenced you into doing it, the voice reminds me.

"It is no matter" Eric snaps, "Bill will have to collect his possessions anyway if we're to maintain the illusion of me impounding him and his belongings before I throw him out of the area."

An agonised sobbing starts to filter into the room, intermixed with strangled cries of; "fucking vampires," "I'm sorry mama," and "just _ruined_ this blouse" at various intervals. We all stand there.

"Perhaps before you go you would oblige me by glamouring Ginger," Eric says, "Pam is not what you would call a 'light touch' when it comes to glamour, and given Ginger's current state – just may crack her head open like an egg."

Eric turns to look at me now, and I feel the full force of his attention prickle over me, pulling me apart and putting me back together. "Pam will go with you while you do that, and arrange for your possessions to be dropped off. After you've done that – wait in the car. Sookie will join you out there."

"She is mine, Sheriff! Whatever you want with her – " Bill begins to flare up but I cut in. Whatever fresh hell Eric is about to unleash upon me, isn't going to be made any easier to chew on if a vampire power struggle started up again.

"Its ok, Bill" I say tiredly. "The sooner Eric tells me whatever it is he has to say, the sooner we can leave." I just need to get through this night I tell myself – so I can get away – and think. I need to work out what these feelings are, and how to stop them.

With a sudden flash of inspiration into how I can defuse the situation enough to get him to leave the room, I continue, "I'll tell you anything later on the drive home, anyway."

"Oh, my sincere hope is that you will," says Eric, smiling mischievously at Bill as he pauses uncertainly at the door.

I nod at Bill, and mouth the word, "please". It's all I've got right now. It seems to work though, as he finally nods stiffly and troops out of the office, Pam trailing behind.

"How touching" Eric observes, the smile having faded into something more like a grimace.

Ginger's wailings shut off abruptly, and I feel a flash of gratitude.

"So what is it you want to say to me, Eric?" I prompt after a while.

Eric walks towards me and I repress the urge to back away. Some other instinct is telling me it's more important to stand my ground.

"Many things" he says. "The most relevant to our needs now however - don't trust Bill" Eric says, his eyes on me intent.

"Aha" I say, outwardly unimpressed, although my heart is beating harder at his words which so closely mirror my own turbulent feelings. "Why exactly?"

"The exact reasons I am not able to disclose to you" he returns, lifting his head slightly and fixing his gaze on the wall. "For now."

I roll my head from side to side a little. "Jesus Christ, Shepard of Judea," I start with exasperation, "do y'all take a class together when you're turned or something? How to hint portentously to mere mortals?"

"No" he says. He looks down at my body and then up to my eyes again, and now there is the slightest hint of teasing warmth in his voice. "Although perhaps I should make it mandatory for all new vampires in my area."

"Yeah" I say in a falsely bright tone, "because y'all really need to improve your skills in that area."

"Would it be better if I was to tell you that things – and people – are not always as they appear?" he asks, his eyes still holding that almost intangible lightness, as he leans towards me slightly.

"No, it would not" I say, coming to a decision. He is hardly the most objective person but I'm not exactly overwhelmed with unbiased sources of information right now.

"Your blood" I blurt out, and then try to collect my thoughts as Eric watches me.

"Vampire blood I mean. Is it able to control the feelings or any other – stuff of the humans who drink it?"

Eric stiffens and paces back towards his desk, before stopping and turning to face me once more. "Did you have his blood before tonight?" Eric asks sharply.

"A...little bit – I think" trying to recollect the events of the night that my _other _major assault occurred. A shudder ran through me, quicker than thought, as the night swam into view: The shock of falling, the mocking cries of the Rattrays as they ripped into me, that left me a twitching, mewling mess on the ground.

"He saved my life." I answered. "I was attacked by the people who had tried to drain him the night before, and he – gave me his blood."

He looked me over. "Its possible you are experiencing some effects of – thrall, given the amount he gave you tonight. It will wear off if you don't take more," he said slowly.

"Thrall?" I squeaked. That did not sound good. That did not sound good at all. "Like I'm under his spell?"

"You will be able to resist it now you're aware of its presence" he says confidently: A helluva lot more confident than I am feeling right then. "It is lucky for you that you also ingested my blood. It will help to counteract the effect."

My head is reeling. I have to go back with him – have to sit with him in the car. While he was being all _thrally _to me. My chest starts to swirl and I can only take short, shallow breaths. Even though I have to think, it's hard to clear my head, and pull my thoughts together into something coherent.

"Is that what you meant?" I choke out, "about not trusting him?"

"No" he says. "He had no alternative. You were beyond saving, otherwise, by the time he pulled Longshadow off you and rather ineptly, finally staked him."

"You…didn't help him…" I say slowly, trying to pierce together what had happened.

"No" says Eric, his face unreadable. "I was told to act as if you were of no importance than a human with an interesting talent." He answers my unspoken question when he sees the look on my face. "Vampires would not kill each other over a human."

I feel myself bottom out emotionally. I've dropped away into some numb place inside because I simply can _not_ deal with anymore. So the only person in this cosmic cock-up of truly epic proportions, who can _control_ me – influence my feelings and god knows what else through my blood – is also the only person who cares enough to protect me from being slaughtered.

"Anything else I should know?" I ask, with hostility creeping into the tiredness in my tone. Inside, I can sense the black of the cold rage I am feeling, leeching into the grey of my exhaustion and colouring it all into darkness. I stand unmoving.

"Yes" he says simply. "Don't get yourself killed."

I wait on his next words. They don't come.

"Well if that's all Eric, I'm going to wait in the car for Bill."

He makes no move to stop me, even though I linger a little, so I turn and leave.

* * *

_Please let me know your thoughts :) _


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything you may recognize from True Blood or its source material._

* * *

Bill gets in the car where I've been waiting and pulls out. I see Pam watching us leave from the doorway of Fangtasia, her hair a shining veil in the darkness.

"Sookie, I – " he breaks off, as he stalls the car. He makes an adjustment and I glance back to see that Pam has vanished.

"I apologise for keeping you waiting," he says after a moment. I can tell he is ruffled.

"It OK, Bill." I find my voice at last. I've been trying to work out what to say to him – how to play this one – since I got into the car. Most of the time, people just follow a social script of their own devising: They smile and they nod and ask polite questions of other people at the right times. Very few people actually listen to the answers their questions prompt: I hear them cataloging the blackheads on their friend's faces in their minds, as their heads go up and down, and their mouths go in and out, spouting platitudes. Its comforting though – to know the words to say, the emotion to feel when the situation calls for it. It's why so many people do it. Right now though, I'm just trying to work out what it is I'm feeling, sitting next to him.

"What did Eric have to say to you?" he asks, keeping his eyes on the road. I can tell it's an effort for him to do that.

"Oh – this and that" I say cautiously. Coming out and saying that Eric told me not to trust Bill _to_ Bill, just seems too blunt. "He doesn't seem too keen on me having had so much vamp blood," I say. There. That's neutral enough.

"Any effects you have will disappear with time," says Bill. "It – it was necessary, to save your life."

"Why didn't you tell me before?" I ask softly. "After the first time you gave me blood?"

"I thought it might – give you the wrong idea about vampires…and be too frightening. I did not want to bring back memories of that night." He says slowly, and my mind twitches suspiciously.

"If it's meant to make me more – _biddable," _I say, sourness twinging the word, "wouldn't letting me know it could do that, actually, be the best thing? So I could take it into account?"

"I would not have taken advantage of you," he says quickly, and I glance over at his shuttered face. He is pulling his shoulders into his body slightly, and it gives him a hunched look. "Sookie you must remember – before tonight you had not taken enough blood to produce that effect."

I let out a flat sound of dismissal."Even so - all that stuff about knowing what I'm feeling, where I am…its just creepy, Bill!"

He looks hunted now, and the unfairness of that - how he isn't the one who should be feeling vulnerable right now, makes my heart climbs in my body in a juddering leap. I let my mouth form the words that I've been mulling over, since I learnt about the full effects of the blood.

"It can make me...want you – what does that even mean? Why didn't you tell me about that?" I look anywhere but him as I say it but my words are as wild as my feelings: "Where you just gonna…string me along until I was fallin' over myself panting for you and then swoop in?"I make a grabbing gesture with my hands, a predator falling on its prey.

"It can only fan the flames of an existing attraction," he says swiftly. "I would have waited for the blood to have left you before I acted on any – feelings – you had. Sookie - what I said, what I said before…I meant it."

I look at him, pulling the threads of what he was saying together and running them through my hands, looking for any snags.

"Meant what?" I ask.

"I will protect you – as much as I am able," he says, biting off the words. "There are vampires more powerful than me – but I will protect you as I can."

"Vampires like Eric?"

"Yes" he says, and there is slight relief in his tone. "Eric is very dangerous. Do not think just because your need for answers align with his that it is anything more – he is very devious, and has had centuries amongst vampires more bloodthirsty than I."

I nod in response. After all, what he is saying makes sense – you don't get to be a mover and shaker in the vamp world, without being able to clear the dance floor, while you move and shake around. The oppressive fear of Eric that Bill wants to instil in me doesn't fit with what I saw in Eric's face when he looked at my double that night though. Eric as well seems pretty doubtful about Bill. There is an understated truth in Eric's words I can't quite shake, despite knowing that Eric didn't lift a fang earlier to protect me against Longshadow.

I shiver and lean against the window, needing distance. I've been handed off to Bill like a package to be dropped at a predetermined point, despite the vision of a blood-soaked Bill lusting for my destruction that still keeps waltzing through my mind, at inopportune times. It's kind of a hard image to shake. Surely they wouldn't have allowed me to go with him if he was going to bust out, He-man style, into it now though. After all, I think bitterly, they need me alive so they can drag me stumbling through this game of blind Sookie's bluff. Blood of Lillith, I remind myself. That's the key to all this: Blood of Lillith, I chant to myself. He is not going to start morphing into whatever combination of bloodthirsty and megalomanic you saw in her memories before he gets his hands on some of the good stuff.

A stray thought comes to me as I close my eyes against the excitement of the last few days. It tilts and swerves, keeping itself in my view, not giving into my internal hand flapping it away. I scrunch up my face, willing it away. Too many threads in this web to count, and I just want to get away from them for tonight.

"What can fairies do?" I ask, giving in at last, breathing out the words more than saying them.

Bill glances at my withdrawn form. "They are more myth than anything substantial," he says quickly. "Did Eric mention them to you?" he asks, shifting into a different tone now. It's his assumption that, naturally, this insight must have come from Eric, and my position _waay_ down on the knowledge totem pole that rouses me.

"No" I say, scathingly. "I am capable of thinking independently. I am not just a mouthpiece for whatever words His Blondeness forgets to say in person." I wait on his next words, all fired up to go another round and pull up outside my house still going at it. His next words however, deflate me.

"I am sorry," Bill says stiffly. "It appears everything I say seems to – make things worse. I have not had to speak with someone human with your...abilities for a long time."

I sit there, feeling vaguely irritated at having the wind taken out of my sails.

"I am trying to make sense of this, but it – eludes me – which is very_ trying_ for a vampire. We are used to mastering all situations we are in." His voice is softer now, melting into the sound of the air ripping past our car. "It can mean our survival."

I can hear a slight smile in his voice now, and I almost look across but force myself to keep my eyes fixed on the road ahead. I need to concentrate on the words he is saying.

"Sookie, I know you mistrust me saying you're clever, but it is true. I have not been exposed to many humans of your kind for a long, long time. Sometimes I lose touch with the differences in you – and I forget to ask in ways that show this – with my eagerness to try and understand our situation, finally."

I twist towards him, and I look at him, really look. Look at the way the light from the streetlights flickering past, briefly illuminate a face that looked the same when there was no electric light.

"I am trying" he finishes at last, with a little grimace to indicate he knows this is not enough.

Alright, time to throw a dog a bone: Or a vamp a TruBlood.

"It must be – strange, I guess," I start trying to wrap my mind around that much time, "to have the world change around you so much. My hands shape themselves into a hazy globe, as I think about the world changing and evolving, before dissolving back onto my lap. "It's a lot to get your head around. Being in the vampire world too – having to adjust all the time, really quickly."

There is silence in the car as Bill takes in my words.

I struggle on. "It might make you feel like you're always – off balance. Like you just want to find somewhere to catch your breath – "

He shoots me a look at my phrase and I shake my head, whisking the words away: "Never mind. Turn of phrase – but do you?" I say quickly, " Wish you could go back to the time you were made, I mean?"

He gives me another look then, his brown eyes melting into the darkness in the car.

"I find myself wishing for that less and less, of late," he says quietly.

I feel like we're in dangerous waters here. I make a non-committal sound, and flick my eyes back to the road ahead.

We're driving through the outlying areas of Shreveport now, and the scattered houses look otherworldly in the night. The windows are vacant and still, with no lights animating them to show the life slumbering inside. When I drive back after closing at work, the houses in Bon Temps are the same in their eerie preternatural silence. Usually, it gives me a thrill of excitement, like I'm seeing a side of the world that others don't, as I set off – an intrepid adventurer – to parts unknown. Tonight though, the heaviness in my feelings drags the lintels of the windows downwards into a predatory gaze. While I've been skipping blithely back from work, ponytail bouncing: watching the night, it's been there as well, watching me back. Now it's hunting me.

I shudder and close my eyes against the sight.

* * *

_A/N: Next chapter will be up later today. Please note for those who might prefer a different kind of story - this is a slow burn Eric and Sookie story. It's going to take them a while to realize they are meant to be :)_


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything you may recognize from True Blood or its source material._

* * *

I lift my hand in a wave to Bill as he reverses and pulls out. I cast my mental net over the house but hear only silence. Reassured, I head into the house, wearily lifting one foot after another as I climb the stairs. Gran is over at Mam Perkins, an old lady that took a fall over her laundry basket when she was hanging up her sheets, and needs someone to sit up with her nights while her hip heals. All of the Bon Temps ladies of a certain age had banded together in a cohesive unit of sympathy and pie baking. She would be over there right now, in a huddle of ladies playing cards while they gossiped. Not having her in the house, gave the house a melancholy air as I make my way upstairs.

Still I thought, it meant she was safely tucked away from whatever fate awaited her in our house. I let my mind wander through the dark rooms of the house again, checking them off one by one. There was nothing lurking in here.

I flick my shoes off with a thud, letting them land somewhere under my bed. Why did I bother to wear them anyway? I hardly ever wear heels. The blue of a turquoise bracelet dumped on my dresser catches my eye as I walk back out to the bathroom. The colour association flicks an image of something else blue into my mind.

Stepping into the shower, I let the water flow over me as I close my eyes. There were still so many questions. I wanted to gather them all together, but holding onto them was like trying to catch all the oranges from a split bag before they hit the ground when you were hauling the groceries in. Sighing, as I reach for the shower lotion, I realise Bill never did tell me about what Eric had said to him about Lillith the night after he left my house.

As my hands start to absentmindedly rub, I notice the image of a fairy fluttering on the bottle's label. I frown as the question of where a fairy could fit into all of this comes back. Bill seems so adamant they're not worth considering, but second Pam was pretty fucking convinced. I let the water slick off the lotion, and wonder about why I am so stuck on fairies. It's just – everything I've heard lately has been pointing away from them – even though they were important enough to be mentioned to begin with, in a kind of throw-away way, and in the kinds of books I read, that usually means something. I give myself an internal slap. Life ain't a mystery novel, Sookie.

Pulling a towel off the rack, I flick it over my body and wander over to stand in front of the mirror. My eyes catch the iridescent blue gleam of the soap holder. A stray finger flickers out to touch its hard edge. I consider what I've heard tonight, away from the obfuscating presence of vampires. Bill seems to want to help me, I muse. At least he is doing something. Wanting to include me, although his desire to include me only goes so far. He seems to clam up pretty quick when I ask for any actual information. He seems to just want me along – sidekick style – on his little jaunt to Sophie Anne. I tense up, thinking of his words about how he and Eric are _vampire_, my mouth framing the word and imitating the cadence he gives the word, and thus don't need to sully themselves with petty human methods of communication. All that talk of manipulation – of needing to guard myself they were doing, and yet neither one had really told me anything. Little fragments here and there.

Okay, I tell myself, stop sulking and work out what you do know. There is fairy involvement, but Bill is less than fussed over that idea. He shuts down every attempt to talk about it despite it being the only other half way decent clue. Thinking about the times he has denied the connection, brings to mind the conversation in the office – _take two_ – and Eric asking "Why take the girl?" I savagely kick back against his phrasing but start to wonder for myself. Why was Bill so hell bent on protecting me? He hardly knew me – sure I'd intervened with the Rattrays the first night I'd met him and I'd expect him to step in if I was getting killed. Return the favour-like. He already had, although a vampire getting involved in human affairs was apparently vastly different to one interceding between me and another vampire.

It still didn't explain his posturing and puffing up around me, trying to keep me away from Eric, at all costs. Maybe he was jealous…and wanted to keep me away from the other vampire? I'd been around enough people to know that what people think they're owed in relationships doesn't match up with what's been said. Not that, I told myself, Bill and I even had a relationship, apart from cosmically compelled road trip buddies at this point. With a sigh, my mind turns to the next possibility: Could it be a vamp thing? Some type of possessive oversight he feels? I don't know enough about vampire customs or culture though to make a call on that one. Eric is right. I don't know much about vampires or why they behave the way they do. I need an – ally – to interpret this for me, to help negotiate my dealings with vampires so I can make my own decisions. The only problem is I'm not surrounded by a lot of non-partisan people with vamp know-how to call on right now.

I could try…myself. It's so tempting in the same way you want to pull at a scab to peek underneath when you're little. You want to know what's there so badly, even though you really, really shouldn't. Eric was clear about what could happen if there was too much mixing with our future selves. They might get stuck here – marooned. I lean against the counter, towel wrapped around me, while my fingers drum against the surface. Would it really be that bad, asking one little question? She had approached me mentally to say Eric would be coming over, I think wistfully, hardly the most vital use of Sookie to Sookie, potentially destiny changing, telepathy. My mouth puckers.

No, I decide, not yet. I can't be the one to maybe fuck this up. Not for something like this. Think Sookie, I tell myself. How could you get the information? Eric and Pam don't seem all that well-deposed towards Bill and they're my only sources of information about vampires apart from him. Still – maybe if I could just hint around it, not ask directly about Bill – but just generally about what vampires usually acted like with humans. What might make them step outside the usual bounds, kind of thing…Of course, I probably needed to be on friendlier terms with Eric first, especially after tonight's little denouement, for him not to cotton onto what I was doing. It would have to be just thrown in after a while, casually, not to soon after I made nice. For that to be possible though…I need to make nice.

I square up to the mirror. Okay girl, I tell myself. Next time you do this, it will be for real.

"I'd like to apologise," I say quickly, eyes down. "I'm not sure why I've been so –cranky – with you. I mean, I do think that you could really take a few lessons from our Lord in humility." My eyes flick to his, and what I see sends my eyes shooting downwards again. Make _nice_, Sookie, I remind myself.

"Half the time…I don't know why I'm mad, except that a lot has happened, and it doesn't feel like I know half of what I did before a couple of days ago! And before I know it I've opened my mouth and, well, I never used to have this problem – " I trail off, hoping he would copy my sheepish smile.

He gives me a long, cool stare instead.

The humiliation crashes over me and I realise this was a really bad idea.

"Well," I say to myself in the mirror, vanishing the fantasy of building a connection with Eric to help me out of this goddamn mess; "That would be about as well as it _could_ go, Sookie. Honestly, what are you expecting? For him to go antiquing with you?"

Exasperated, I splash water on my face, to try and clear my head.

There has been a nagging sense in my ribs, twitching and probing, since I got out of Bill's car. Eric's face keeps appearing in my mind, with his words worming through my earlier moment of peace. It – it feels like I am connected to something that I can't grab a hold of which keeps eluding me. Some understanding that niggles at me, just out of reach.

The sight of a blue towel on the rack behind me catches my eye and the realisation engulfs me. I have _feelings _for him. Not the gooey lightning storm I'd picked up on while he was here earlier in the house, coming from some fragment of the future, but definitely something. Could it be the blood? I ask myself, hoping to box it up and put it away for now. The answer slinks back, destroying my tremulous hope "nope". Well, I think scolding myself, "you would say that anyway, wouldn't you?" Can't even trust myself these days.

A bubble of laughter forces its way out of my lips and I let my head sag forward to touch the mirror with my forehead.

I am so very fucked.

* * *

I make my way back into the bedroom, a towel slung around me with my wet hair on my shoulders. When I stop dead: Staring in horror at the person gloating at me through my upstairs window. Eric fucking Northman: Who is suspended in the air outside, peering in like a predatory Peeping Tom.

"Eric?" I screech in surprise, my feet unsure of whether to hotfoot it over to the windows to swing the blinds closed, or take off down the hall.

"Miss Stackhouse", he says with a devilish grin. "I accept your apology."

_Oh sweet mother of god!_ He heard me!

"You heard me?" I ask.

"Every. Word." He confirms with his grin still in place. "Are you going to invite me in? We have much to discuss."

I take a deep breath, and shake my head. "No, you can just _hang_ there for a while" I say, moving to snatch a pair of pyjamas out of the dresser. Apparently, mortifying situations bring out the need to pun in me.

"Very droll" he comments as I dart outside into the hall to change.

When I return, I'm feeling more composed.

I give him a brisk nod, lean against the wall and cross my arms. The urge to uncross them is almost instantaneous but I resist it, not wanting to look unsure. "Eric, you may come in," I say, and watch him slide effortlessly into the room, his long body surprisingly graceful; each movement is studied and sure.

Another thought occurs – if he can feel what I'm feeling, and he was here while I was doing the mirror thing… "Eric, how much of what I'm feeling can you pick up on?"

He plops himself down on the bed and stretches out. I can feel my mouth open at the almighty cheek of that man. "Enough to know you're currently very focused on me," he says, and my heart gives an unhappy flip-flop, "but no more than that."

I feel myself start breathing again.

"Giving you my blood was more of a precaution" he says, regarding me with a reserved intensity I realise means he is being sincere, "you had been given so much off Bill's after being nearly drained by Longshadow, that you may have been turned. Giving you mine helped to combat that – as well as the – other effects."

"Thank you" I say quietly. I mean it. The sense of relief that comes over me is so strong that I see Eric nod in response. He must have felt it too, despite our weak tie.

"Why are you here?" I ask.

"To let you know of a change in our plans. I will go to ground at Bills before the sun rises" he says, and my eyes flicker to the window. Dawn can't be too far away. "I've arranged with a transport company to be taken over with him to Fangtasia, during the day."

"Light-proof travel coffins" he says, answering the question in my confused look.

"I will then silver him and meet you at Fangtasia at first dark. We will then fly out to Dallas, where we will confer with a colleague of mine, the Sheriff of that area, someone vastly more suited to answering our questions than Sophie Anne."

"But I can't just go gallivanting to Dallas without telling Gran!" I protest. "What am I going to say to her? And Sam needs me, Eric! I can't just leave him in the lurch!"

"Yes" he says, eyes flickering over me. "If only you had someone who looked exactly like you, sounded exactly like you, had all your memories of your friends and family…" he breaks off as I start shaking my head in confusion. "Yes Sookie? You look as if you might know of someone suitable? Who are they?"

He angles his head towards me and a slight smile creeps across his face. The same smile I'd seen on future Eric's face that first night: mocking but without any real malice. He was _joking_ with me.

I roll my eyes at him. "Oh well, I have this twin sister who is really into pillow-fighting and giving her sorority sisters rubdowns with massage oils," I say flippantly. "Her name is Sveta." If he wants to kid around, so can I: I also want to unnerve him a bit.

He just raises his eyebrows appreciatively at me.

"But timey-wimey-wibbley-wobbley stuff!" I let out, abandoning the idea of unnerving Eric. My tolerance for time travel story lines also extends to the more modern Doctor Who, and their catchphrases. "I thought the idea behind all this dress up and playacting was that we were trying not to contaminate the future – time stream – or something!"

I walk over and sit on the edge of the bed furthest from him. He leans towards me, propping his head up with one hand while the other lies on the bed between us. "Isn't that what they want to avoid?"

"After getting some – answers – from another source." He stalls my question by pulling his face into a "no idea" expression. "They seem content with letting this go ahead."

The hand on the bed comes up to rub his temple, as he says "It appears they are in a bubble where their – influence – is quite minimal. It is we that are important, and must proceed as closely as possible to how things were for them. There is some leeway apparently, but I do not understand how this is determined. It is permissible for us to go to Dallas because this happened previously. We even went there for a similar purpose – to find the vampire we seek this time."

I crinkle my forehead, focusing on understanding. "If they are in this bubble though – sort of separate", my hands making a pushing away gesture from where Eric and I sit together on the bed. "Why is it we have to run around fixing things? Isn't it kind of a lost cause?"

He rolls onto his back and moves up the bed, so he can rest his head back against the headboard, still looking at me. "They say they can not take actions which might affect our future, as it would then affect _them_. It would disrupt the bubble around them which keeps them anchored here. We can do it however" his hands coming to represent a line "as we are meant to be here, making changes to this point in time."

"But how do we do it? Didn't their source bother to tell'em that when he let my other self, know she could just move right back in? " I ask, with a note of dismay creeping into my voice.

"No" he answers me. His skeptical look matches my snort.

"It doesn't feel right" I say, "just running off and letting her come in here and replace me." I give a shudder at the image of watching myself through a window while my duplicate self, attired in my uniform, eats dinner with Gran.

"Do you see an alternative?" he asks, looking across to the window. I don't. I feel like I've been stitched up, unable to move, except in the way they want me too.

"Was it her idea?" I ask, suspiciously, thinking of cuckoo birds and nests.

"No" he says, getting up with one more lingering look at me. "She was quite – freaked out – by the prospect."

I could fight about this. If I was not so dog tired, I could barely keep my eyes open at this point, I would have. Instead, I take a breath and remind myself: Tomorrow is another day. You can work out the kinks you have with this plan later, when you can think straight after getting some sleep. I can't let it go completely though and mutter: "Gran will know".

"Let us hope not" answers Eric, bending down to straighten the covers, as I watch bemused by his taking the time.

He steps over to the window, calling out to me "I have to leave now. I will send my dayman with information about the arrangements for you. I will pay for your expenses."

I stand and follow him around the bed. Again, the feeling of being stitched up so thoroughly I couldn't get a toe out of line if I tried, is coming up. I open my mouth to let him know I can at least – contribute – to the cost, when he swings around. "There is something else, Mr Compton neglected to mention," he says. I can feel an undercurrent of amusement from him. "Our blood can also grant you very stimulating dreams."

He watches me while the penny drops.

"I'm going to have sex dreams? With you in them?" I ask appalled, trying desperately not to look as self-conscious as I feel.

"Lots" he says smoothly. "Although, if you ever want me to star in anything more _concrete_ for you, Sookie. You only have to ask." His eyes take a stroll down my body again.

"Out" I say, pointing to the window. He gives me that smile again, and walks to the window. There is a decided strut in his walk, and it makes me realise how broad his shoulders are before they slim down to his toned waist. I swallow as I watch the procedure of him going through the window again, this time in reverse.

"Sookie, one last thing…" he trails off, looking at me expectantly through the window.

"Yes Eric?" I grate out, as he obviously wants me to do.

"Sweet dreams," he says, his lips wrapping into a decidedly smug smile. Then, without giving me time to respond, he vanishes at vamp speed.

I sit down on the bed. The mattress creaks and shifts with the force of me dropping onto it. "Yeah, you better run" I mutter tiredly to myself.

* * *

_I feel his hand float down my side and I shiver. The imprint of his lips to my spine is feather-soft. I tense as his lips slowly dip down my back, trailing kisses. His hand comes up and gently brushes the underside of my left breast. I push out slightly to let his hand fill with them, but his hand vanishes to leisurely trace its way down my spine, just with his fingertips. He focuses on the back of my neck, cavorting in light touches over the skin there. Moving in a rhythmic pattern he stokes down – once, twice – and then I feel his tongue slip over where his fingers had been. It moves in one glorious stroke downwards. _

_The breath that I been holding since he started, rattles out of me. _

_His hand moves again, more decisively, shifting me backwards and cradling me to him. I let my curves flow onto his angles, a confidence strumming through my body. My eyes sweep over the sculpted form that arches protectively around me. I feel so aware of each sensation as they ripple through me; the coolness of his skin, the tug of the sheets rearranging themselves over our bodies as we move, the desire which lights me up like a candle. Aware and accepting, I ride each wave of sensation with my newfound knowledge. My hands reach for him as the very cells in my body cry out for the sun as I sunbathe – craving the warm sunlight on my skin – calling it down into me. Wanting it to be a part of me. He kisses me and I feel myself soar into him. Our senses mingling in a place beyond touch, beyond sensation. He pulls away, and our eyes met in a moment of profound understanding. _

_This was right._

_"Sookie," he whispers, his voice intent. "Don't trust Bill". _

I woke with a violent start; my heart fit to burst out of my chest with its pounding. I started to straighten the welter of sheets around me, willing my heart to slow. I lay back with an exhausted huff. Something tells me I'm going to need more than one packet of Tylenol before this is all done.

* * *

_A/N: It may be a while before I can update again as I will be focusing on my Nano - hope the two chapters will tide you over. Please let me know your thoughts about the story so far if you would like to grace me with them! _


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